


Your Apollo

by crmsndragonwngs



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blow Jobs, Bulma Briefs/Vegeta Smut, Character Death, Depression, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time, For whatever reason I seem to like the whole fighting to fucking trope???, Frottage, Gohan is 21, Graphic Depictions of Illness, M/M, More Death, Rimming, Sibling Bonding, Spanking, Traumatic Injury, background vegeta/bulma, future Trunks’s timeline and all the heartache therein, graphic depictions of death, ill add more tags as I go, just because i feel that needs to be emphasized here, there is no underaged stuff tho, vegebul smut happens in ch 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crmsndragonwngs/pseuds/crmsndragonwngs
Summary: Vegeta and Gohan are the last of the Z Fighters, and after watching all of their friends and family fall to the androids, they can only find solace in one another. They are the only two people on earth who have seen and survived the true horrors of the androids’ reign of terror, and the only two who understand the depth of their trauma.OrIn which Vegeta survives the initial onslaught, though not without consequence, and Gohan refuses to let him just give up
Relationships: Son Gohan/Vegeta
Comments: 13
Kudos: 39





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“But if you lead, I will follow  
>  A thousand miles away  
> I will be your Apollo  
> Alone in outer space”_

Gohan sniffs and scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand. He wishes his dad were here. Dad could have saved everyone. Dad wouldn’t have lost. 

He’d transformed when Piccolo fell, a burst of gold and rage and power unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and the Androids had hesitated for just a moment, watching with the rest of them as he roared at the sky. Then Vegeta had matched him, letting out his own roar that was more beast than man, power exploding out of him and sending shockwaves of golden electricity in all directions. The rest of Gohan’s friends had stared in awe at the two ascended Saiyans, then stepped up next to them, yelling and spitting, raising their voices in a battle cry that had brought fresh tears to Gohan’s eyes. 

It hadn’t been enough, though. Tien, Yamcha, Chiaotzu, Krillin… they’d all fallen, one after another, until only Gohan and Vegeta had remained. They’d fought side by side, for a moment so perfectly in sync that they had almost seemed to move as one person, and Gohan thought they were going to win. For just a moment, there was simply no way they could lose. 

But then the Androids had joined their attacks, charging a massive combined ki wave and aiming it directly at Gohan, too fast for him to dodge. One moment, Gohan was staring death in the face. The next, he was staring at Vegeta’s back, watching the older Saiyan’s armor come apart, his flesh blistering and burning. He’d fallen, and Gohan had fallen with him, cradling his head as the prince of all Saiyans had taken his last gasping breaths, the light in his eyes fading before they’d fallen shut. All of Gohan’s strength had left him then, his power blinking out with Vegeta’s energy signature, his hair fading back to black and falling around his shoulders as he broke completely from the inside out. He was all alone. There was no one left to fight. No hope. No future. 

The Androids had laughed and left him there like that, holding his father’s old rival, sobbing for all the lives lost, and all the lives that would be lost because of their failure. Because of his failure. 

Gohan scrubs again at his eyes, taking a deep breath and moving to gently lay Vegeta’s head on the blackened grass beneath them. 

But then something miraculous happens. 

The moment Gohan’s hands touch Vegeta’s burned face, one of the prince’s dark eyes flies open wide. He gasps, his unfocused gaze sliding to Gohan, one shaky hand reaching for Gohan’s wrist. 

“Oh my gosh, Vegeta!” Gohan shrieks, making Vegeta flinch. “Vegeta, you’re alive! I thought— oh my gosh.” The prince’s hand closes weakly over Gohan’s wrist, and Gohan starts crying again. 

“Go...han…” Vegeta breathes, too quiet to really hear. “I… can’t…” He swallows hard, blinking quickly. “Bul...ma…” He tries again, squeezing Gohan’s wrist. Then he passes out again, hand falling to the ground, his jaw going slack. 

“Right, Bulma. Bulma will know what to do.” Gohan says, standing up and grabbing Vegeta’s arm, pulling it over his shoulders. He flies straight to Capsule Corp, as fast as their combined weight will allow, and all but crashes into the building. Bulma runs out when Gohan screams. 

“Oh my god, what happened?” She shrieks at the sight of her husband, hanging lifelessly from Gohan’s shoulders. 

“I’ll explain later, but he’s dying. We have to get him inside.” Gohan sobs. “He saved me. He can’t die, Bulma. He can’t die for me.”

“C’mon, help me with him, just a little further.” Bulma says gently, pulling Vegeta’s other arm over her own shoulders. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter and the rest of the fic takes place 10 years after this. Bulma and Vegeta ARE married in this AU.
> 
> This is one of the rare times I’m actually posting chapters of a fic before it’s finished, but I really like this one a lot, so I figured eh, why not just go ahead and post it 🤷🏼♀️😂 And the format’s fucked again because I’m lazy as shit and just used the rich text editor instead of manually tagging. Sorry about that 😕
> 
> Anyway, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
> 
> Title and quote are from [Satellite](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mCbdQNGBw9E) by Starset


	2. 10 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Satellite, shine on me tonight  
> I will be your gravity,   
> I will stay and never leave  
> My satellite,   
> Are you here tonight?  
> Shine your light and set me free  
> Take the darkness out of me  
> Shine on me”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut and angst ahoy!

“You have to focus, brat.” Vegeta growls, one teal eye following Gohan’s movement as he searches for an opening to attack. He tries for Vegeta’s blind side, knowing it’s pointless, but he’s getting frustrated. Vegeta blocks his punch without looking, his lips twisting into a snarl as he returns fire. “For fuck’s sake, Gohan, you’re actually getting worse!” He huffs, exasperated. “That’s enough. We’re done for the day.”

“No, I can keep going, Vegeta. I promise, I’ll try harder.” Gohan says, following the older Saiyan as he drops out of the air. Vegeta looks at him, his one good eye fading back to black, the gold dissipating from his deep auburn hair. 

“You had better. If you expect to defeat the Androids, you have to get stronger.” He snaps, baring his canines. “You’re not just fighting for yourself, Gohan. You’re not just fighting for all your dead friends. You’re fighting for everyone who’s left. For my son and my wife. For your mother. For everyone on earth who is depending on us to protect them.”

“I know, Vegeta.” Gohan says, looking away. “I know that, I just—“

“No, don’t make excuses.” Vegeta snarls. “You are the only hope this world has left. You and Trunks.”

“Vegeta, don't say that.”

“Shut up! I’m half blind. I have no place on the battlefield anymore. I’m just a needless distraction. All I can do is teach you, and I can’t teach you if you don’t  _ focus _ .” Vegeta turns away from him then, walking stiffly away. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better.” Gohan says miserably, following after the prince with his head low. Vegeta sighs heavily and glances back at him over his shoulder, softness creeping into his gaze. 

“I know you will.” He says quietly, slowing his stride so that Gohan can catch up. “You are doing better. You’re more in control. You just get distracted too easily.” He chuckles then, shaking his head. “I am quite pleased that you are using my weaknesses against me. You must be merciless if you expect to win.”

“I was just getting frustrated.” Gohan mumbles. “I wouldn’t have gone after your blind side otherwise.”

“You  _ must _ use your opponent’s weaknesses.” Vegeta says, stopping and turning to pin him with a hard stare. “Otherwise, you will die. And then where will that leave Trunks?”

“He’ll still have you.” Gohan says, but Vegeta scoffs. 

“He needs someone whole. Someone who can protect him and train him, to foster the warrior I know he has within him.” Vegeta replies, a strange note of sadness in his voice. “He needs  _ you _ , my friend.”

“Vegeta…” Gohan sighs. He hates when Vegeta talks like this, like he’s a feeble old man barely clinging to life instead of an immensely powerful warrior in his prime, his only flaw a missing eye that he never really needed. Vegeta could fight with both eyes blinded and still outclass any opponent. Except the Androids, unfortunately. 

“I cannot live forever, Gohan.” Vegeta says quietly, looking out over the ocean far below the cliff they are standing on. “I have lived far longer than I ever imagined I would, even with my vision intact.”

“Will you stop that?” Gohan says, his voice shaking. “Please?”

“You know it is true.” Vegeta sighs. 

“It’s not true, Vegeta. You can’t know that.” Gohan says, catching his arm when he turns to walk away. 

“Gohan.” Vegeta warns, trying to wrench his arm away, but Gohan holds him fast. 

“I nearly lost you once.” Gohan says quietly. “I can’t do that again. I can’t lose you. You’re all I have left.” Vegeta huffs and slaps Gohan’s hand away. 

“This world is unfair, boy. Always remember that.” He growls, a strange glint in his eye. 

—

“He’s getting worse.” Gohan says miserably, leaning on the doorframe in Bulma’s lab. Bulma glances up from her solder work, an odd look on her face, then sighs. 

“I know.” She says softly, going back to her work. “He hates feeling weak.”

“He’s  _ not _ weak, though. He’s the furthest thing from weak.” Gohan huffs. He looks up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “What are we gonna do, Bulma? It just seems like he’s slipping away. He gets more and more withdrawn everyday. I can’t stand it.”

“You have to understand how Vegeta operates, Gohan.” Bulma says with another sigh. “He’s fought his entire life. Weakness, or any perceived weakness, means death in his world.” She looks up at Gohan and smiles sadly. “He’s been waiting for death since he lost that eye 10 years ago. And he doesn’t accept any comfort from me. I think he thinks he’s failed me somehow.”

“Why?” Gohan asks. Bulma shrugs. 

“I guess he thinks he’s unable to protect me or whatever. He thinks of himself as dead weight. And anytime I try to comfort him or make him feel better, he pushes me away.” She sniffs then and looks down at her hands. “I’m scared of what he might do to himself if he ever decides you and Trunks don’t need him to train you anymore.”

“We can’t lose him, Bulma.” Gohan says quietly. “We need him.”

“I know.” She replies. “Just wish we could show him that.”

—

“You’re distracted  _ again _ .” Vegeta growls, smacking the back of Gohan's head and shooting away. “What is distracting you?”

“It’s nothing.” Gohan replies, frowning deeply. 

“Don’t lie to me, boy.” Vegeta snaps, whipping around to face him again. 

“Really, it’s nothing. I’m fine.” Because he doesn’t want to admit to the older man that he’s so fucking worried about him that his guts feel like they’re twisting into knots. 

“Then prove it. Get your head in the game.” And then Vegeta is diving in for another attack, catching Gohan off guard. He slams into Gohan head on, shoving him back hard until they crash into the ground 30 feet below. Pain explodes in Gohan’s back and neck and head as he punches a hole in the earth, and Vegeta jumps back and follows up with a brutal volley of ki blasts directly into his chest. 

He shoots down and grabs Gohan’s wrist, tossing him straight up into the air. He tumbles high above the earth, finally catching himself just as Vegeta materializes in front of him and throws a punch that might have knocked out all of Gohan’s teeth if it had connected. Gohan dodges clumsily, off-balance and completely open as Vegeta uses the momentum from his miss to spin around and slam his heel into Gohan’s ribs. Gohan doubles over, gasping and clutching his side, but the other man does not let up. He darts in, assaulting Gohan with a barrage of lightning quick jabs, and he takes several hits before he can finally get his arms up to block. 

Vegeta’s block break is immediate and instinctive, a powerful burst of ki that leaves Gohan vulnerable again. He surges forward, wrapping one big hand around Gohan’s throat and pushing him back to the ground, slamming him into the hole he’d created earlier. He holds him there, straddling Gohan’s waist and pressing his palm hard against Gohan’s throat, then bows his head and closes his eyes. He braces his weight on his free arm against Gohan’s chest, and for a moment he just sits there, his ki flickering and unstable as he drags air into his lungs. 

“Are you okay?” Gohan asks quietly, feeling very vulnerable pinned to the ground underneath the older man. 

“M’fine.” He mumbles. Sweat drips from his nose onto Gohan’s gi and he starts to slump forward, his hand pressing harder against Gohan’s throat, cutting off his air. Gohan’s hand flies to Vegeta’s wrist, carefully prying his hand away. 

Vegeta’s eyes snap open then, glazed and terrified, and his hand clamps down harder. His fingers dig into Gohan’s neck, his grip like iron as he begins to actively choke him, lost in some flashback that has turned Gohan into an enemy. Gohan kicks his legs, trying to get some purchase and wrench away from him, but Vegeta might as well be made from stone, immovable and unyielding and so powerful that Gohan’s heart stutters in his chest. 

“Vegeta.” He gasps, sinking his nails into the soft flesh of Vegeta’s wrist, but that only seems to piss him off. He snarls, feral and horrifying, and lifts his weight off the arm he’d braced on Gohan’s chest. He raises his hand, gathering his ki into a ball in his palm, and panic explodes in Gohan’s chest, flushing through his veins, cold and sharp and dizzying. He puts his hands on Vegeta’s chest and  _ pushes _ with everything he has, his power bursting from his palms and sending Vegeta flying 50 feet into the air. 

Gohan lies in the Gohan-shaped hole in the earth for a moment, gasping and rubbing his throat, and he flinches when he hears Vegeta land heavily some way off. He listens hard, trying to slow his heart and breathing, but he doesn’t hear Vegeta get up again. He struggles to stand then and climbs out of his hole, looking around. 

Vegeta is lying on his back several yards away, unmoving. Gohan rushes to him, putting a hand on his chest and shaking him gently. 

“Vegeta, can you hear me?” He says loudly, his voice calmer than he feels. Vegeta groans and reaches up, his hand closing loosely around Gohan’s wrist. He rouses slowly, opening his eye and blinking before finding Gohan in the glare of the setting sun. 

“What happened?” He rasps, squeezing Gohan’s wrist gently. 

“You blacked out, I think. Tried to choke me.” Gohan replies, his voice breaking a little as if to punctuate his words. Vegeta winces, his eye falling to the bruise that must be blooming over Gohan’s throat. 

“I’m sorry.” He says softly, looking away. 

“Don’t be.” Gohan replies, smiling down at him. “Are you feeling okay? Before you snapped, you looked like you were about to pass out.”

“I’m fine. I’m dehydrated and I pushed too hard, that’s all.” He huffs. 

“We should get back then.” Gohan says softly, but Vegeta holds his wrist fast when he tries to pull away. 

“Just let me catch my breath.” He says quietly. He closes his eyes then, breathing slowly and evenly, holding Gohan’s hand to his chest. Gohan nods and shifts to sit down on the ground next to him. He watches him quietly for a moment, eyes drifting over the older man’s remarkably youthful features, his sharp jaw, his high cheekbones, his straight, slightly upturned nose. He still looks to be in his early 20s, despite having just turned 46 a few months before, and Gohan is always so surprised at how handsome the prince truly is. Despite the twisted scarring that crawls up his neck and cheek, evidence of the blast that had taken that eye, he is still the most beautiful man Gohan has ever seen. If anything, the scars only serve to enhance that, beautiful in their own right.

Gohan has always been utterly fascinated by Vegeta, even when he was little and Vegeta had been the scariest monster he’d ever encountered. He’s so devastatingly powerful, every inch of him tooled and tuned for war, tight and compact and more efficient than anyone Gohan had ever seen before. He had been so viscous, so effortlessly merciless, so breathtakingly cruel, and Gohan had been so scared of him, but he’d admired him too. Even after Gohan had surpassed him in raw power, Vegeta still outclassed him easily in ferocity and technical skill and control, and Gohan had found himself admiring him more and more as time passed. 

Vegeta huffs then and loosens his grip on Gohan’s wrist just a bit, but Gohan doesn’t move to pull his hand back. Instead, he slides his palm up over Vegeta’s chest, all the way up to the hollow of Vegeta’s throat, his fingers curling gently into the dips above the older man’s collarbones. Vegeta doesn’t react, so Gohan slides his hand up farther, his palm pressing gently over Vegeta’s adam’s apple. 

“Looking to get revenge, brat?” Vegeta growls lowly, cracking open his good eye to look at Gohan. Gohan shakes his head and smiles, sliding his hand farther still, his fingers brushing Vegeta’s jaw. “What are you doing, Gohan?”

“Nothing.” Gohan murmurs, thinking about what Bulma had said a few days ago. They needed Vegeta to know that they needed him, that they would never stop needing him. One day, Gohan wouldn’t need the older Saiyan’s tutelage anymore. He’d already surpassed Vegeta physically, and it was only a matter of time until he mastered everything Vegeta has to teach. But Gohan would still need him. He would always need him. 

He slides his hand farther up again, cupping Vegeta’s scarred cheek, smiling when Vegeta furrows his brow inquisitively. He strokes the prince’s cheek with his thumb, lifting his other hand to push his fingers gently into his dark hair. 

“Gohan.” Vegeta warns, eyes briefly fluttering shut when Gohan traces his bottom lip with his thumb. 

“I’ve been wracking my brains,” Gohan murmurs, watching Vegeta’s throat work as he swallows nervously, “trying to think of a way to convince you that you are not nearly as useless as you seem to believe you are.” He meets Vegeta’s gaze again, smiling gently. “I’ve been thinking about all the reasons we all need you, all the reasons  _ I  _ need you, and all the reasons you’ve given me to try to prove that we don’t, and I’ve decided that the only way I can hope to convince you is to show you.” Vegeta’s eyes widen, his mouth dropping open. 

“What are you—“ he starts, but Gohan leans down then, hushing him by pressing his lips gently to Vegeta’s. The prince freezes, his whole body going rigid as Gohan kisses him softly, the hand on his cheek slipping back to cradle Vegeta’s skull. 

He pulls back after a moment, a little afraid that he’s about to get punched in the face, but Vegeta just stares up at him, mouth still open and eye impossibly wide. Gohan searches his dark gaze, watching as it flits to Gohan’s mouth for just a fraction of a second, and Gohan grins at him, leaning back in to kiss him again. He feels Vegeta’s hand grip just above his elbow, his lips moving shyly under Gohan’s as he tentatively kisses back, making Gohan shiver as the butterflies he’d been trying to ignore erupt in his guts. He gasps when Gohan catches his bottom lip between his own, and Gohan swallows his nerves, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into Vegeta’s mouth. 

Then Vegeta  _ groans _ into the kiss and finally comes alive, his hand tightening on Gohan’s arm as he kisses Gohan back hard, his free hand finding the back of the younger man’s neck to hold him there. Their tongues press together, tasting each other, and Gohan moans softly when the hand on his neck slides into his hair, gripping firmly and pulling. They kiss with increasing fervor, mouths moving together almost frantically as they drown in each other. 

Finally, Gohan breaks the kiss, moving to nuzzle under Vegeta’s jaw, sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin and shivering at Vegeta’s moan. 

“Gohan.” He breathes, moving his hands to cup Gohan’s face and pulling him up to look him in the eye. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Gohan murmurs, trailing one hand across Vegeta’s chest to his stomach. “I’m showing you how much I  _ need _ you, Vegeta.” The older man looks conflicted then, his one dark eye flickering over Gohan’s features. 

“I don’t understand.” He says, frowning deeply. 

“There’s not much to understand.” Gohan replies with a smile. “I’ve always admired you. Always thought you were amazing.” Vegeta flushes at his words, turning his face to look away. “Don’t do that.” Gohan murmurs, cupping his jaw and making Vegeta look at him. “Don’t hide from me.”

“You’re a fool.” Vegeta growls half-heartedly. Gohan shakes his head. 

“It makes sense, right? You always say that Saiyans are attracted to strength. It’s only natural that I would be drawn to you, then, isn’t it? You’re so strong, so incredibly powerful. So sexy it fucking  _ hurts. _ ”

“Gohan.” Vegeta growls, moving to sit up, and Gohan knows he’s going to try to flee. 

“And I know you feel the same way about me, Vegeta.” Gohan continues, his voice low and rough. He grabs Vegeta’s shoulders and throws a leg over the older man’s hips, sitting squarely in his lap and straddling him. Vegeta gasps and leans back on his hands, trying to get away, but Gohan tightens his grip on Vegeta’s shoulders and grinds his hips down. Vegeta’s head drops back as he moans, and Gohan leans down to press kisses to the prince’s throat. “You wouldn’t have kissed me back so  _ eagerly _ if you didn’t feel something for me, would you? Admit it. You want me too.”

“Gohan.” Vegeta repeats in a whisper, one hand finding Gohan’s waist. He lifts his head and the desperate fire in his one good eye is unmistakable, so intense that Gohan almost has to look away. But then Vegeta is kissing him again, pressing his tongue into Gohan’s mouth and claiming him. His teeth graze against Gohan’s lips, sharp and stinging, and Gohan moans and rocks in Vegeta’s lap. But then Vegeta is pulling away again. “We can’t do this.” He says, his voice gravelly and deep. 

“Why not?” Gohan asks. He moves to kiss Vegeta’s neck again, licking and sucking across the prince’s tanned skin, tasting every inch he can reach. Vegeta tilts his head instinctively, giving Gohan better access and sighing softly. 

“You’re so young. You don’t know what you’re doing.” Vegeta breathes, moaning quietly as Gohan’s hands slide down his chest. 

“I’m 21 years old. I’m an adult, Vegeta.” Gohan purrs, sinking his teeth into Vegeta’s shoulder and shivering at the deeper moan he pulls from the older man. 

“I’m older than your father would be, were he still alive.” Vegeta pushes, even as he kneads at Gohan’s waist. 

“Ugh, please don’t talk about my dad when I’m sitting in your lap.” Gohan huffs, moving to kiss under Vegeta’s jaw. “Not exactly a turn on.”

“That was the point.” Vegeta replies. Gohan snorts and claims the older man’s lips again, kissing him hard and deep and full of tongue. Vegeta groans and opens his mouth, shifting so he can move the hand he’s leaning on to skate up Gohan’s back, all the way up into his hair. He grips a handful of short black spikes and yanks Gohan’s head back, snapping forward with a feral snarl and biting at the younger Saiyan’s throat. “You’re half my age and low class trash.” Vegeta huffs, licking up Gohan’s pulse and shivering when he moans. “But  _ fuck _ , how I want you. Ever since you reached maturity and started to  _ smell _ so fucking  _ good _ .”

“Vegeta.” Gohan moans, rolling his hips again and pulling a hiss from them both. 

“And your power, my gods.” He continues, kissing down Gohan’s throat. “Could kick my ass if you ever got fucking serious. Can barely keep up with you anymore as it is.” He pauses then, using one hand to push Gohan’s collar down to suck a bruise over his collarbone. “Want you. Want your strength. Fuck, Gohan.”

“Want you, too.  _ Need  _ you.” Gohan whimpers, pushing his hands up into Vegeta’s hair and rolling his hips. He can feel that Vegeta is fully hard in his pants now, knows that Vegeta can feel how hard Gohan is too, and suddenly they’re both aware of the fact that they are entirely too clothed. 

Vegeta surges up then, throwing Gohan onto his back in the grass and moving over him, claiming his mouth again as he reaches down to untie the belt around the younger man’s waist. Gohan moans, shoving his hands under the hem of Vegeta’s tank top and pushing it up, sliding his hands over as much skin as he can reach as the older man all but tears his clothes off his body. He pulls back and yanks Gohan’s shirt up over his head, moving immediately to kiss down his neck and chest, flicking his tongue against Gohan’s skin, tasting every inch of him. 

He kisses his way back up Gohan’s body, sliding his thigh between Gohan’s legs and humming when the younger Saiyan rocks up against him. 

“Gods, look at you.” Vegeta murmurs, kissing over Gohan’s jaw. “So desperate for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Gohan says through a moan, sliding his hands down Vegeta’s back and grabbing two generous handfuls of the prince’s ass. “Fuck, you’re so hot. Want you so bad. Always have, always admired you. So fucking perfect, Vegeta.” He rocks his hips up again, grinding against Vegeta’s thigh, shivering when the older man hums lowly. 

“Mmm. When you pleasure yourself, do you think of me?” He asks, pressing his teeth to Gohan’s throat. 

“God, yes.” Gohan groans, digging his nails into Vegeta’s ass, pulling a wounded sound from the prince. 

“Do you imagine my hand on you instead of your own?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you wonder what my mouth would feel like on your cock, Gohan? What my teeth would feel like as they press into your flesh? Do you imagine what I might do with my tongue?”

“Y-yes, Vegeta,  _ fuck _ .”

“Do my hands on your gorgeous fucking body feel as good now as they did in your fantasies, Gohan?”

“Better. Feels so fucking good.” Gohan’s hips snap up, rutting hard against Vegeta’s thigh as he moans desperately. “Please, Vegeta, I need you.”

“What do you need, brat?” Vegeta growls, drawing his tongue up Gohan’s throat. 

“I need  _ you _ .” Gohan whimpers, reaching to grab Vegeta’s face and pulling him back up, kissing him like his life depends on it. 

“Do you want me to suck your cock, Gohan?” Vegeta asks, his hot tongue invading Gohan’s mouth and mapping it out. Gohan just moans raggedly. “Say it, brat. Tell me what you need.”

“Your mouth, fuck. Need your mouth on me. Need you inside me, need you all over me.” Gohan begs, raking his nails across Vegeta’s back. Vegeta snarls at him, biting down hard enough on his bottom lip to draw blood, then begins kissing down Gohan’s body, sliding farther and farther down until he settles between Gohan’s legs. 

“Beg so pretty.” Vegeta says, his voice deep and rough. He pulls Gohan’s pants and boxers down together, licking his lips as Gohan’s cock bobs and stands proudly, ruddy and throbbing. “ _ Fuck _ , Gohan _. _ ” He murmurs, reverent, and Gohan watches as Vegeta wraps one gloved hand around his dick. Gohan’s hips buck immediately, fucking desperately into Vegeta’s fist, and Vegeta hums softly, leaning forward to collect the bead of precum that leaks from his tip with his tongue. Gohan moans again and squirms, digging his fingers into the earth beneath him as Vegeta opens his mouth and swallows him down. 

He works Gohan absolutely expertly, bobbing his head and taking him into his throat, swallowing around him as the younger man comes apart at the seams. Gohan fucks his hips up, gasping at the gentle graze of teeth warning him to stay still, and whines loudly. Vegeta gives a muffled chuckle and pulls back, grinning up at him. 

“So fucking desperate, aren’t you, brat?” He rumbles, jerking him off firmly. Gohan’s hips buck again, and Vegeta pauses, letting the younger man fuck his fist. Gohan feels him watching as his hips begin to stutter and his abdomen begins to clench, his back arching as he moans, then pulls his hand away. Gohan whines again and writhes, lifting his head to glare at Vegeta. “Turn over. Get on your hands and knees.” The prince says with a grin, and Gohan does as he’s told. 

Vegeta walks toward him on his knees, grabbing Gohan by the hair and pushing his face into the grass, then grips his hips and drags his ass higher in the air. He yanks Gohan’s pants down and slaps his bare ass so hard tears spring to his eyes, and he moans and pushes back against Vegeta, earning another hard smack. 

Gohan props himself up on his forearms and bows his head, panting and trying to stay in control of himself. He does  _ not _ expect the sudden wet heat at his entrance, Vegeta’s tongue drawing a light circle before laving him from his balls all the way up to his tail scar. Gohan’s hips jolt, his back arching, and Vegeta does it again, pausing to graze his teeth over the sensitive scar and pulling a ragged moan from the younger man’s lips. 

“What are you— ah,  _ fuck!” _ Gohan gasps as Vegeta drags the flat of his tongue over it again. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come if you keep this up.”

“You’ll come when I say you can, brat.” Vegeta growls, then sinks his teeth into Gohan’s asscheek. Gohan jolts again and moans, his fingers flexing into the grass beneath him. “Have you ever been fucked by a man before, Gohan?” Vegeta asks, moving to draw his tongue over the younger man’s asshole again. Gohan shudders and shakes his head. 

“N-no. I, uh… I’m actually a, um…” He huffs, more embarrassed than he thinks he’s  _ ever _ been, and drops his forehead onto his wrists. Vegeta continues to lick over his flesh, kneading gently at his thighs and humming softly. 

“Spit it out, brat.” He murmurs, no bite to his words, and Gohan takes a deep breath. 

“I’m a, uh… virgin.” Gohan forces out, his face on fire. “I’ve had girlfriends! And like… kissed and touched them, but…”

“Oh really?” Vegeta purrs. Gohan jumps when he feels the older man’s tongue at his entrance again, then Vegeta grabs his hips and flips him over. “That’s fine. I’m happy just sucking this gorgeous fucking cock.” He says, settling back between Gohan’s legs and palming him again, stroking slowly. “There will be time for other things later.”

“What do you mean?” Gohan gasps, dropping his head back and digging his fingers into the dirt as Vegeta drags his tongue up the underside of his cock. 

“It will be more enjoyable for both of us if I am able to properly prepare you for my cock.” He murmurs, then closes his lips over Gohan’s tip and sucks gently. 

“Ah,  _ fuck _ .” Gohan hisses, his hips jolting as Vegeta’s tongue swirls over his cockhead. 

“I must say, brat,” Vegeta says with a soft hum, “I did not expect this.”

“Expect what?” Gohan asks, feeling stupid but unable to form a single coherent thought as Vegeta works him over. 

“Any of this.” Vegeta says, and Gohan can feel him watching him. “Didn’t know you felt this way.”

“Course I do.” Gohan replies, lifting his head to look at the older man. Vegeta smirks and leans down again, swallowing him whole without preamble. Gohan gasps and arches his back, moaning as Vegeta bobs his head in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Shit, you’re good at this.” He moans. Vegeta hums around him, then pulls off again. 

“I’ve always been so hard on you.” He says softly, a sad smile on his face when Gohan looks at him again. “I had always been under the impression that you hated me.”

It’s Gohan’s turn to be surprised. 

He sits up and rolls onto his knees, and pushes Vegeta’s hands away, missing the contact but needing a clear head to say what he  _ needs _ to say. 

“Vegeta, did you… did you really think that?” Gohan asks, cupping the older man’s face, unable to keep his voice from shaking. Vegeta looks away, resolutely fixing his gaze on the horizon, and he  _ growls _ at Gohan when he tries to pull his face back. “I hated you a long time ago when you tried to kill my dad and all my friends.” Gohan says with a soft chuckle. He leans forward and rests his forehead against Vegeta’s temple. “But I haven’t hated you for a single moment since we came back from Namek. Even when you were a raging asshole and I had every reason to.”

“That’s a lie.” Vegeta says, his voice uncharacteristically hushed. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about this.” Gohan murmurs, trying to pull his face back once more. Vegeta lets him, his dark eye impossible to read when he looks up at Gohan. “How many times have I told you I need you, Vegeta? Why do you think I hate it so much when you talk like you’re giving up?”

“If you need me so much, then why do you hate it so much when we spar?” Vegeta challenges, and Gohan jerks back, astonished. 

“I  _ love _ sparring with you.” He says, offended by the very idea. “God, Vegeta, I never feel more alive and in control than I do when I’m with you.”

“You’re so resistant—“

“Because it seems like you always want to argue with me and talk like you’re dying at the end of every session these past few months!” Gohan exclaims. Vegeta flinches and Gohan takes a deep breath, carefully reining himself in. He cradles Vegeta’s face in both of his hands, leaning his forehead against Vegeta’s and bumping his nose with his own. “I can’t lose you, Vegeta. And it scares me when you talk like you’ve given up. It takes me right back to when the androids first arrived and you sacrificed yourself for me. God, I hadn’t been so scared and lost since my dad died, and I  _ never _ wanna feel like that again.”

“Gohan.” Vegeta breathes, reaching up to grab his wrists. “I haven’t given up. But you must get used to the fact that one day my injuries will catch up to me.”

“Stop.” Gohan snaps, his voice hard, and Vegeta flinches and stares at him. “I don’t have to get used to shit. And if you think I’m gonna just let you roll over and die, you’ve got another thing coming.” He kisses Vegeta then, hard and deep, and Vegeta sinks into it with a sigh. His hands slide up Gohan’s arms and over his back, and he kisses back like his life depends on it. His arms loop around Gohan’s waist, squeezing briefly, and then he’s pushing Gohan back to the ground, laying over him and rutting against him. He kisses him slowly and passionately, pushing one hand into Gohan’s hair and massaging circles into his scalp. Gohan shivers and rocks his hips up, swallowing Vegeta’s moan, and wraps his arms around him tightly. 

“You have some nerve,” Vegeta growls when he breaks for air, moving to kiss at Gohan’s throat, “speaking to me in such a way. Like you have some kind of authority over me, your prince.” Gohan snorts and rolls his eyes. 

“According to you, I’m stronger. So I guess that means I  _ do _ have authority over you, huh?” He teases, laughing at Vegeta’s low growl. 

“I said I could barely keep up with you.” The older man snaps, biting threateningly at Gohan’s throat. “But I can still keep up with you, brat. And I can still knock you flat, if I am so inclined.”

“Obviously.” Gohan says with another snort. Vegeta bites him hard this time, lunging at the meat of his shoulder and sinking his teeth in deep. Gohan hisses, his nails digging into Vegeta’s back and pulling a ragged moan from the prince, and Vegeta retaliates immediately, moving up his neck and biting down again. He rolls his hips, grinding down against Gohan’s dick, then reaches to shove down the waistband of his training shorts, freeing his own erection. Gohan lifts his head, wanting to see them together as Vegeta rolls his hips against him again, and moans desperately at the skin to skin contact. “Fuck, Vegeta, that feels so good.”

“Like how I feel against you?”

“Yeah.”

Vegeta hums and lifts his head, kissing Gohan deeply and grinding down against him, rolling his hips and swallowing Gohan’s moan. He ruts against him in a slow, deliberate rhythm, and moves to kiss Gohan’s neck again. 

“You taste so good.” Vegeta murmurs, licking and sucking at Gohan’s skin. “Feel so good. So right, like you were made for me. Tall and strong and so fucking pretty. Perfect.”

“I love you, Vegeta.” Gohan whispers, ice flushing through his veins immediately as Vegeta freezes over him. His mouth works, panic fluttering in his chest, and Vegeta just stays as still as stone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— please, don’t go, just—“

“Hush, brat.” Vegeta murmurs, kissing his neck again. “Not going anywhere.” 

“I’m sorry.” Gohan repeats, closing his eyes. Vegeta hums and bites gently at his throat, then pulls back and looks at Gohan with a strange glint in his eye. 

“Don’t apologize.” He says softly, then presses his lips to Gohan’s sweetly. He kisses him again, more fiercely this time, and Gohan groans into it, his hands raising to push into Vegeta’s hair. “So tell me, Gohan. What do you want? What do you need?”

“You. Just want you. Need you. Whatever you want.” Gohan breathes, lifting his legs and wrapping them around Vegeta’s waist. Vegeta grinds down against him again, their cocks sliding together. “Fuck, Vegeta.” 

They move together like that for a long time, rutting against each other and kissing like they’d die without it. They both moan raggedly, dragging air into their lungs as they begin to fall apart, and Gohan thinks that there’s nowhere else on earth he’d rather be. 

“I’m close.” Vegeta groans suddenly, dropping his face into Gohan’s neck and sucking a bruise there. 

“Me too.” Gohan says, wrapping his arms around Vegeta’s neck and rocking his hips up to meet him. “Fuck, baby, come all over me.” Vegeta ruts harder against him, arching his back, then stiffens and comes hard with a wild moan. He bites down hard on Gohan’s shoulder and then Gohan is coming too, his hips stuttering as he groans and clings to him. Vegeta lifts his head and captures Gohan’s lips again, kissing him deeply, then moves down his body to lick up their combined mess from his abdomen. “God, you’re so fucking hot.” Gohan hisses. Vegeta just hums softly. 

Then he sits up and wipes his mouth, tucking his dick back in his pants and looking away. Gohan sighs and pulls his pants and underwear up, then sits up and grabs Vegeta’s chin. He pulls his face back to his and kisses him sweetly

“You don’t have to—“ Vegeta starts, pulling away, but Gohan growls at him and holds him fast. 

“Haven’t you heard a single word I’ve said?” Gohan asks incredulously. “Do you really think I would have done any of this if I didn’t want to?” Vegeta doesn’t say anything. He just stares back at him, his expression unreadable. “How many times do I have to tell you that I need you before you finally start to believe me?”

“Does Bulma know?” Vegeta asks suddenly, searching Gohan’s eyes with something like panic in his gaze. “Does she know you were planning to seduce me?” Gohan blushes and looks away. 

“She knows that I was planning on convincing you that—“

“Does she know that you were going to fuck me, Gohan?” Vegeta growls. 

“No.” Gohan growls right back. “But she’s scared—“

“Shut up!” Vegeta shouts, the panic in his eyes and on his face burning out of control, and leaps to his feet. “I can’t— you—“

“Vegeta, please, just calm—“ Gohan starts, but then Vegeta  _ roars _ at him, loud and inhuman, and turns and shoots off into the sky. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I have not watched the history of Trunks special. I’m planning on watching it this weekend though. Not that I’m terribly interested in following “canon”, of course, given that this is an AU, but y’know (does canon really even matter in Dragon Ball though???)
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter might take a little while. I am writing it, but I’m also writing two other fics simultaneously because I am so pathetically hyperfixated on this stupid-ass fandom it’s not even funny 😂😂😂


	3. Super World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“So send your energy to me and I'll push through_  
>  Send your signal home and bring me back to you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut and a whole lot more angst

“I think I fucked up, Bulma.” Gohan says, his voice more flat and lifeless than she’s ever heard it. Bulma flips up her welding helmet and looks up at him, blinking confusedly, unused to hearing profanity from his mouth. 

“What d’you mean?” She asks as she stands and turns off the generator. “Shit, is this about— Trunks, can you go see if Grandma needs any help with dinner?” 

Trunks looks up from his own project and makes a face. “Ugh, really? Dad says I’m a man now, and—“ 

“I mean it, Trunks.” Bulma snaps. “This conversation has a height restriction. Five-foot and up, now scoot.”

“ _ Ugh. _ ” The kid huffs, exasperated, and stomps past Gohan and down the hall. 

“Sorry, little brother.” Gohan mumbles without looking at him. His dark eyes are still trained on Bulma, that searching expression that his dad always got when he couldn’t quite figure out what the next step was all over his face, and it makes her heart twist to see it. He looks so much like Goku that it hurts sometimes. 

“What has Vegeta done now?” Bulma asks, shaking her head to clear the thoughts of her old friend. Gohan frowns more deeply and crosses his arms tightly over his chest, as though to invoke the Saiyan prince through posture alone. “Spit it out, kid, what’d he do?”

“He didn’t do anything.” Gohan growls, and Bulma flinches, not at all expecting that tone from this sweet boy. “Like I said, I fucked up. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Okay, well then, tell me what  _ you _ did.” She sighs, pulling the helmet fully off her head and plopping down in the folding chair her dad had been sitting in before he’d decided it was time for tea and wandered off. Gohan lets out a gusty sigh and unfolds his arms, dropping to sit on the floor. He puts his elbows on his knees and drops his head in his hands, looking for all the world like a pouting child, and closes his eyes. 

“I sorta seduced your husband.” He deadpans, gritting his teeth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t set out to do it, it just sorta happened. I don’t know what came over me, and I  _ know _ it was wrong, but I—“

“Gohan, hush.” Bulma interrupts, unable to keep the grin off her face. “I don’t care if you fucked Vegeta. Shit,  _ someone  _ needs to, and he won’t let me even kiss him anymore. That bullshit about failing me or whatever.” She says, laughing outright when Gohan’s eyes fly to hers, wide and completely shocked. “But that can’t  _ possibly  _ be what you mean when you say you fucked up. So what else happened?” Gohan flushes tomato red and looks down at the floor. 

“He asked me if you knew I was planning on seducing him, and then freaked out when I said no.” He says with a sigh. “He took off and hid his ki signature, and now I can’t find him.”

“Damn.” Bulma says, frowning. “That's a problem.”

“No kidding.” Gohan grumbles. 

“So what’s the plan, kiddo?” She pulls her pack of cigarettes out of the big pocket on the front of her coveralls and lights one, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke through her nose. 

“I don’t know.” Gohan admits miserably. “If he doesn’t want me to find him, then I’m not gonna find him. Simple as that.”

“There’s gotta be some way to get to him, Gohan.” Bulma says softly. “Use that clever little brain between those big ol’ Saiyan ears and figure it out.” Gohan snorts. 

“Big ol’ Saiyan ears, gee thanks.” He says, rolling his eyes when she chuckles at him. 

“I know how to find him.” Trunks says from the door suddenly, making them both jump. He shrugs when they look at him. “Grandma didn’t need help with dinner.”

“How much of that did you hear?” Gohan asks sheepishly, looking a little green. Trunks smirks, looking very much like his father with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. 

“Enough to know that you and my dad are gross.” He says haughtily, sticking his nose in the air. “And that my mom’s cool with it. So I guess I am too.”

“Welp, that’s it, Bulma.” Gohan says, slapping his knees and getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go find the androids and let them fucking kill me.”

“Whatever, do you wanna know how to find him or not?” Trunks huffs, narrowing his eyes. 

“Yeah, course.” Gohan says quietly. “But Trunks, you gotta know that I—“

“I’m 13, Gohan, not four. I get it.” Trunks sighs, waving a hand. “Really wish you woulda chosen literally anyone else on  _ earth _ than my  _ father _ , but whatever.”

“Shit, when did you start sounding so world-weary, honey?” Bulma chuckles, shaking her head. Trunks just snorts and rolls his eyes. 

“So you fucked up—“

“Language, young man.”

“Fine. So you  _ messed up _ , and dad took off. Now you can’t find him cuz he’s hiding.” Trunks surmises smuggly, pushing off the doorframe and circling Gohan. “So make him come to you.”

“I don’t follow.” Gohan says with a frown, watching Trunks as he walks around him. 

“C’mon, big bro, what would make you come running in a heartbeat?” He says, as though it’s obvious, but Gohan is clearly not getting it. “We’re  _ Saiyans _ , you dork. And what do Saiyans want?”

“To fight or to eat, usually.” Gohan replies. 

“Okay, then.” Trunks says, clapping his hands together. “So how do you signal to another Saiyan that you wanna fight? Or that you’re  _ in _ a fight and need help?”

“Oh.” Gohan gasps, his eyes going wide. “Oh,  _ duh! _ Why didn’t I think of that?” Trunks laughs outright at that and crosses his arms over his chest again. 

“Great question.” He replies, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes. Then his expression turns a little more serious, his blue eyes intimidatingly sharp when he says, “just be careful, ‘kay? He’s not the only one out there who’ll be looking for your ki.” But Gohan just smiles and ruffles his hair as he makes for the door. 

“Don’t worry, little brother.” He says warmly, then jogs away down the hall. 

“So what was that about?” Bulma asks when he’s gone. Trunks turns and blinks at her. 

“What d’you mean?” 

“Did you even bother to  _ ask _ grandma if she needed help? Or did you just hide in the hallway and listen in from the get go?” 

“I’ll never tell.” He says with a toothy grin, then takes off down the hall. 

“You little brat, I should ground you for a month!” She yells after him, unable to suppress the grin that spreads across her face. 

—

Vegeta sits alone in the desert, perched on an outcrop of rock with his arms folded tightly over his chest. He’s too wound up to meditate, like he’d originally come here to do, so he broods instead, staring hard enough at the rock directly in front of him to almost bore holes into it. He tracks Gohan’s ki unconsciously, his mind drifting back to it every time he drags it away, as though he’s drawn to it, a pathetic moth to forbidden flame. And it is  _ infuriating  _ how that imbecile Kakarot and his stupid spawn are so consistently able to get under his skin, driving him to extremes in not one but  _ two  _ aspects of his miserable life. 

Gods, how could he have been so  _ stupid?  _ So breathtakingly  _ easy _ to seduce, responding to the insolent brat so naturally, as though he’d needed him more than he’d ever needed anything. It sickens him now to think of it, how quickly he had thrown aside everything he stood for to cheat on his beautiful, devoted wife and mother of his child with the half-breed spawn of a low-class wretch who didn’t even deserve so much as a  _ second _ of Vegeta’s time. And how  _ dare _ that wretched, snot-nosed piece of shit even  _ presume  _ to know what Vegeta needs, and then have the  _ audacity  _ to make it about himself. 

And even now, even after thoroughly berating himself for nearly five hours, he still tracks the brat’s ki as it flits around outside of West City. He hates how closely he monitors him, hates that he feels like shit for how panicked the boy is, hates that he can’t stop thinking about his full lips moving across his throat, so sweet and soft and disgustingly appealing. 

He  _ had _ noticed how beautiful Gohan had grown to be. How tall and powerful and handsome he’d become in these long years between the androids’ arrival and now. He’d noticed too how  _ good _ the brat smelled, like strength and the sea and warm earth, filling Vegeta’s senses every time he walked into the room. 

It’s really a wonder that they hadn’t found their way to each other sooner. 

And perhaps they might have if Bulma weren’t a factor. 

But she is, and Vegeta has always been the loyal sort. And beyond that, he loves her too much to throw her away for some pathetic brat who wears his heart on his sleeve and looks at Vegeta like he hung the fucking moon. She deserves better. Trunks deserves better. 

Probably, they always have. 

Vegeta sighs and closes his eyes, trying again to lull himself into the ever elusive meditative state that had always seemed to come so easily to Kakarot (thanks to his empty head, no doubt). But immediately, Gohan invades his thoughts, and he thinks about how much trouble the boy often had with meditation too. How often had they sat together in the wilderness and  _ Vegeta _ had been the calm and focused one?

There’s a pang in his chest at the thought, so intense it makes him cough so hard he wheezes, and he thinks he must be going insane. He should  _ not _ have let that foolish boy so close. Really, he should have left this miserable planet when he’d had the chance and never looked back. 

But then he wouldn’t have Bulma, and he wouldn’t have Trunks, and for better or worse, he wouldn’t have Gohan. And he needs them. He can’t live without them, stupid, sentimental old fool that he is. 

He stands and stretches, still wheezing, and decides to find something to eat before he heads back home. Gohan is not one to avoid a difficult conversation, and if Vegeta is to be subjected to the boy’s lectures, then he’d better fill his stomach to avoid the inevitable migraine and short-tempered outburst. 

But then he feels the ki he’s been subconsciously tracking all day explode, expanding wildly, so fucking powerful the ground trembles beneath Vegeta’s feet. There are no other ki signatures that Vegeta can discern in Gohan’s vicinity, and his heart leaps into his throat. He’s in the air and racing back toward West City before his brain can even process what his body instinctively knows, his thoughts moving sluggishly under the ice cold bolt of panic that shoots from the top of his skull down to the scar where his tail used to be. 

They’re in trouble. The androids must have attacked, and he’d left Gohan there alone to defend them. Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid _ old fool. 

Gohan’s energy is a bright, burning star dead ahead, and Vegeta ascends and pushes himself to his limits as he streaks back to him, moving so fast that he can’t even see the ground zipping by beneath him anymore. He stretches out his senses, searching for Trunks and Bulma and finding them calm within the walls of Capsule Corp. He frowns and finds Gohan again just outside the city, his ki leveled out and holding steady. 

Perhaps he is alone, facing off with the androids. Perhaps the fight hasn’t started yet. 

Gohan’s energy shifts excitedly as Vegeta approaches, and then he is racing toward him. And  _ that _ is when Vegeta realizes what is really going on.

“Clever bastard.” He growls, grinning despite himself. He’d known that Vegeta would come running if he raised his energy, and he’d used it to flush the prince out of hiding. 

Vegeta sees him on the horizon and rushes to meet him, and they collide at full force, the impact blowing a hole in the earth below them. They engage immediately, a flurry of punches and kicks that have enough force behind them to hurt, and Gohan immediately has the upper hand. He grapples with Vegeta, forcing him backward, his teal eyes burning with something other than just the adrenaline from the fight, and Vegeta bares his teeth and pushes him back hard. 

“How dare you,” he starts, diving in before the brat has a chance to recover and slamming his heel into his side. “How  _ dare _ you call out to me like this, after what you’ve done.”

“Shut the fuck up and fight, Vegeta.” Gohan snarls, ducking a sweeping punch and countering hard. And that shocks Vegeta enough that Gohan is able to overwhelm him completely, tearing them both out of the sky and plummeting back to earth. The younger Saiyan lands on top of Vegeta, and he flinches and turns his head away when Gohan bares his teeth and growls at him. “God, you’re so fucking stubborn.” The brat huffs quietly after a moment, then leans down and presses a sweet kiss to the corner of Vegeta’s jaw, just beneath his ear. 

Vegeta gasps despite himself, reaching up to grip Gohan’s forearms hard and gritting his teeth. He should push the brat off, should beat the hell out of him and teach him the lesson he clearly needs to learn. But then Gohan’s teeth are grazing along his neck, drifting up to nibble at his ear. 

“I told Bulma.” He says softly, his breath ghosting over the shell of Vegeta’s ear. “She said that  _ someone _ needs to fuck you, since you two don’t anymore.” And Vegeta’s cheeks  _ burn  _ at that, shame rushing through his body, acrid and vicious enough to have him pushing hard at Gohan’s shoulders. 

“Get the hell off me, you insolent brat.” Vegeta growls, and when Gohan doesn’t respond, he expands his ki and knocks him away. He springs to his feet, watching warily as the boy picks himself up off the ground. 

“Sorry, I just meant that she didn’t mind.” Gohan says, looking a little hurt, and Vegeta snorts and looks away. 

“Doesn’t change anything.” He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “We shouldn’t have done what we did. It was wrong.”

“You really think so?” Gohan presses, the hurt in his face growing. 

“Yes, I do.” He says sternly. Gohan stares for a moment, his eyes shiny with tears, then takes a deep breath and nods. 

“Fine.” Gohan murmurs, looking at the ground. “That’s fine. But tell me something, Vegeta. Just humor me for a sec.” And then he looks up again, his eyes ablaze, and bares his teeth. “If you think it’s so wrong that we had sex, the why do you smell so fucking turned on right now?” Vegeta’s eyes widen and he takes a step back, a thrill of fear shooting down his spine at the positively  _ predatory _ look on the brat’s face. He stalks forward, and Vegeta steps back again, keeping a healthy distance between them. He startles when his back hits a tree, and then Gohan is right there, caging him against it with his arms and leaning in so close that Vegeta can feel the boy’s breath on his face. 

“What are you doing?” Vegeta growls, looking up into the younger Saiyan’s eyes. 

“I bared my heart to you, told you how I felt, let you have your way with me. And what did you do, Vegeta?” Gohan says, his voice low and rough, and his eyes drop to Vegeta’s lips. “Answer me.”

“Fuck off.” Vegeta growls, and Gohan curls his lips, baring his teeth and  _ snarling _ at him. 

“You  _ ran,  _ didnt you?” He says, pressing his nose to Vegeta’s cheek when the prince turns his face away, and snapping his teeth. “Say it.”

“I ran.” Vegeta breathes, closing his eyes. 

“Louder.”

“I ran!” Vegeta yells, expanding his ki and pushing the brat back. Gohan’s feet skid on the ground, his boots leaving ruts in the dirt, but that dangerous look is still lurking in his dark gaze. Vegeta suppresses a shiver. 

“You ran.” Gohan says softly. “Like a coward.”

“What did you just say?” Vegeta snarls, but Gohan meets the challenge, growling right back and raising his voice. 

“I said you’re a coward!” He spits, and he may as well have slapped Vegeta in the face. “You always have been, haven't you? You act like such tough shit, but when things get hard, you tuck your tail between your legs and run. Fuck everything else, right? Vegeta, do you even care how worried everyone was about you? Do you care about us at all?”

“How dare you.” Vegeta says, astonished. “So all those things you said before, about how much you looked up to me, that was a lie?”

“Damn your pride, Vegeta!” Gohan roars. “When have I ever lied to you? About  _ anything? _ Of  _ course _ I wasn’t lying. I meant every single word I said. But I mean what I’m saying now, too. You lost your eye, so your answer was to shrink away from everyone and everything, and you ran. You thought you betrayed your wife, so your answer was to run. That’s your only answer. The second you think you’re starting to lose, you  _ run _ .” He takes a step, and then he’s right in front of Vegeta again, pressing him back against the tree. “I’m not gonna let you run anymore, Vegeta.” He breathes, then he leans down and kisses him, long and hard and deep from the start. And Vegeta can’t stop the moan that bubbles up from his chest, nor does he have control of his hands as they land on the brat’s chest, sliding up his neck and cupping his jaw. 

“So much like your idiot father. Always believing in me when you shouldn’t.” Vegeta growls against his lips, wrapping his arms around Gohan’s neck and kissing him back fiercely. “And I wasn’t running. I just needed to be alone. I was coming back when you called to me.”

“You can’t just go off alone, Vegeta.” Gohan says, his voice thick. Vegeta feels something warm and wet on the boy’s cheek then and pulls back, staring. “What if the androids had found you?”

“I can take care of myself, brat.” Vegeta says, stunned by Gohan’s tears. 

“Not against the androids. Even together, we can’t defeat them. You know that as well as I do.” He says, leaning his forehead against Vegeta’s. “I sure I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but we need you.” He takes a deep breath, his lips ghosting against Vegeta’s. “I need you.”

“Well, here I am.” Vegeta whispers, and Gohan lifts his head to stare at him again, his eyes flickering all over Vegeta’s face. And then they are on each other, kissing desperately and ripping at each other’s clothes. Gohan’s hands roam everywhere, his body pressing so hard against Vegeta’s that he almost can’t breathe, one knee nudging his legs apart and slotting between them. Vegeta rolls his hips against the solid column of Gohan’s muscular thigh, both of them moaning softly into each other’s mouths. Then Gohan pulls away, chuckling when Vegeta huffs and tries to drag him back, and reaches up to grab the prince’s wrists. 

“Let’s go home, Vegeta.” Gohan murmurs, then steps back and shoots into the air. He doesn’t wait for Vegeta to follow. The bastard knows he’s got him. 

Gods, he really is pathetic, isn’t he?

—

They are almost to Capsule Corp when an explosion rocks the earth. They stop, turning toward the source just in time to see a plume of smoke rising over the amusement park. 

“Shit, that’s way too close.” Gohan says, glancing at Vegeta. “We should check it out.”

“We don’t have a choice.” Vegeta growls, and Gohan looks at him fully, finally noticing the horror in the older Saiyan’s eyes. Vegeta looks at him, then bares his teeth and ascends. “Trunks is there.”

“What?!” Gohan yells, chasing after Vegeta as he blasts off toward the park, moving so fast Gohan almost can’t keep up with him. He ascends, pushing hard, and that’s when he finally sees him. 

Trunks is fighting the androids. 

Vegeta slams into the male android right as he goes for Trunks’s back, knocking him toward the ground and following up with a ki blast so powerful Gohan has to cover his face. 

“Trunks, get back!” Gohan yells, turning in the air and aiming a heel at the back of the female android’s head. She whips around and grabs Gohan’s ankle, swinging him around and tossing him into the sky. 

“Gohan!” Trunks screams, and Gohan grits his teeth, turning again and raising his hands to his forehead. 

“Goddammit,  _ move, _ Trunks!” He shouts, and Trunks shoots away just in time to miss Gohan’s Masenko. The android knocks it away and smirks, aiming her own attack right at him. But then Trunks is diving in again, raising his hand and charging his ki. “Trunks, no! I told you to get back!” Gohan roars, watching in horror as the android dodges the boy’s attack, his ki blast slicing through her hair. 

“You little bastard!” The android snarls, lifting a hand to her head. “You cut my hair. I’ll kill you for that.” She hits him hard in the gut, then turns and kicks him in the face, knocking him out. 

And Gohan doesn’t think. He lunges at Trunks, grabbing him in a bear hug and taking him to the ground. He turns and lifts a hand, gathering his ki to block the strike that would surely come, but it’s too late. He catches the android’s ki blast with his left hand, gritting his teeth as it burns through his flesh and creeps down his arm. He pushes back with everything he has, but she’s so fucking strong. He sees her close her hand, a wicked little smirk on her face, and her energy explodes all around him, taking his entire left arm with it. 

—

When he wakes up, Vegeta is standing over him, staring at him with concern heavy in his one dark eye. 

“He’s awake.” He says softly, and then Trunks is there, tears streaming down his splotchy cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry, big brother! I’m so sorry, I was so stupid!” He sobs, throwing himself over Gohan’s chest. 

“S’okay, kiddo.” Gohan drawls, feeling heavy and sleepy. “The hell happened?”

“What do you remember?” Vegeta asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Remember the park.” Gohan replies, taking a breath and wincing. “Remember the androids attacking Trunks. Remember… remember blocking one of the android’s attacks.” He closes his eyes again and furrows his brow, wincing at the sting on the left side of his face. 

“Anything else?” Vegeta presses, glancing back over his shoulder and nodding to someone. Probably Bulma. Gohan huffs. 

“Pain. And light. And fear.” He replies. Bulma appears in his line of sight then. There are tears in her eyes. 

“Gohan, honey… I did everything I could, but there weren’t any more senzu beans, and there was a lot of damage. And— and I’m not that kind of doctor, so I couldn’t—” She says quietly, her voice shaking. “I had to take your arm, honey. I’m so sorry.”

“My… what? My arm?” Gohan asks, frowning deeply and looking over at his left shoulder. “What are you… what do you mean you—“

“She means that she had to remove your left arm.” Vegeta says bluntly, his gaze sliding to his shoulder for just a moment. “I didn’t have a choice, Gohan. Trunks would have died if I hadn’t given him the last senzu bean.” He takes a deep breath then and sighs, suddenly looking much older than he is. “He’s my son, Gohan. I couldn’t let him die.” 

“I’m so sorry, big brother. You probably hate me. I hate myself. I should have just stayed home. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Trunks sobs brokenly, his voice muffled by the sheet pulled up over Gohan’s chest. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m following.” Gohan says, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“There’s not much to follow.” Vegeta says with a sigh. “You blocked an attack meant for Trunks, and it damaged your arm beyond repair. Bulma was forced to remove that arm, because I had given the last senzu bean to Trunks.”

“Yeah, I get that, I just…” Gohan says, grunting as he shifts and puts his right hand under Trunk’s chin. “Why are you so upset?” Trunks stares at him with his big, watery blue eyes, sniffing congestedly. 

“Because it’s all my fault.” He says as though it’s obvious, but Gohan shakes his head and smiles. 

“The arm doesn’t matter, little brother. You’re alive and safe.  _ That _ is what’s important.” He says softly, then puts his arm around Trunks’s shoulders and hugs him tightly to his chest. “You hear me, Vegeta?” He says sternly, looking up at the older Saiyan. “I don’t care about the arm. All that matters to me is that both of you are safe.”

—

For the next three days, Trunks doesn’t leave Gohan’s side. Vegeta doesn’t mind. The boy needs his rest, and Trunks keeps him entertained enough. But on the fourth day, when Vegeta checks in on Gohan before breakfast, Gohan waves him in and looks at Trunks. 

“Hey, little brother, can you give us a minute?” He asks apologetically. Trunks looks back at Vegeta and wrinkles his nose. 

“Ugh, gross.” He huffs, sliding off the edge of the bed and waving a hand over his head dismissively. Then he jabs a finger at his father, narrowing his eyes. “No rough stuff, got it?” Vegeta frowns and watches the boy leave the room, then looks at Gohan quizzically. 

“Don’t ask.” Gohan says with a chuckle. “C’mere, Vegeta.”

Vegeta does as he’s asked, stepping up to Gohan’s bedside and shoving his hands in his pockets. Gohan sits up a bit and waves him closer, then hooks a finger in a belt loop on his pants. He tugs Vegeta closer, asking him to sit, and flattens his hand over his broad chest. He smooths his palm up over his shoulder and behind his neck, his fingers slipping into Vegeta’s hair and his eyes darkening. 

“Gohan.” Vegeta murmurs, resisting when the younger man tries to pull him down. “You need to rest.”

“I’ve been resting.” Gohan says, frowning deeply. “I need _ you _ , Vegeta.”

“Gohan, stop.” The prince growls, reaching back to grab Gohan’s hand and pull it out of his hair. “If we had not been screwing around, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Are you serious?” Gohan scoffs, pushing himself up until he is sitting up straight. “Vegeta, this was bound to happen sooner or later. And if we hadn’t been on the way back here, we might not have gotten to Trunks in time.”

“That’s not what I meant, brat.” Vegeta growls. “If we hadn’t had sex, I wouldn’t have been out in the wilderness in the first place. We would have been here, and Trunks would have never gone out on his own.” Gohan flinches and yanks his hand away. 

“So this is my fault?” He says, the look of hurt on his newly scarred face completely breathtaking. 

“Stop being so obtuse.” Vegeta says, starting to get angry. “I’m saying this is  _ my _ fault. I should have seen this coming, and I should have stopped it. Then you’d still be whole.”

“Stopped what?” His voice is shaking. 

“Should have stopped whatever this is before it had a chance to start.” Vegeta snaps, standing up. “I should have crushed—“ He pauses at a twinge in his chest that makes him cough, then shakes his head. “Never mind. You should be resting. I apologize for disturbing you.”

“Why is it that everyone else is more concerned about me losing my arm than I am?” Gohan asks softly, his voice ice cold, and Vegeta looks at him with wide eyes, blinking stupidly. “We live in an uncertain world, Vegeta. And we can’t change what has happened, no matter how much we might want to. My arm is gone. So what? I’m still here, and so are you, and so is Trunks. I’d give both my arms to keep the two of you safe. That’s all that matters.”

“Gohan.” Vegeta warns, but there is a ferocity in the brat’s gaze that has him snapping his mouth shut again. 

“No amount of what ifs is going to change what is. There’s no dragon to wish back my arm or your eye. My wounds will heal before Korin has more senzu beans, just as yours did. It is what it is. We have to make the best of it, just as we always have.” He continues, his dark eyes so sharp they seem to see right through Vegeta. “Now come here and kiss me, Vegeta. I won’t ask again. Make your choice.”

And he should walk away. He should make the right choice, the choice that will be easier for the both of them later on, when the inevitable happens, just as it always does. 

But Vegeta has never been very good at making the right decision. No one has ever accused him of being wise, and he’s never liked the easy option much anyway. 

He bares his teeth at Gohan, growling deep in his chest, then strides back toward him as the brat answers him with a growl of his own and throws the sheet over his lap aside. They collide at full force and Vegeta kisses him so hard their teeth clash. The boy’s arm wraps around his shoulders, his fingers pushing into Vegeta’s hair again, and he can’t stop the pitiful whine that pulls up from somewhere deep inside him, lost in Gohan’s mouth and his own desperate moaning.

He climbs over Gohan, pushing him back, one thigh pressing between the younger man’s legs, biting at his mouth as he kisses him fiercely. His hips rock up against Vegeta’s thigh and he slides his hand down the older man’s back, grabbing his ass and yanking him closer. Vegeta ruts against him lightly, pulling away and dropping to kiss under Gohan’s jaw, sucking and nipping at his throat. One hand smooths over the younger Saiyan’s bare chest, tracing the contours of his muscles as he drifts lower. His fingers tease at the waistband on his sweatpants and Gohan sighs, his hand skating up and down Vegeta’s back. 

“Such a thorn in my side.” Vegeta groans, reclaiming his lips and rolling his hips down against Gohan’s growing erection. The brat moans into Vegeta’s mouth, his nails biting into his back through his shirt, and he rocks up again. 

“I need you, Vegeta.” He whines pathetically. “Fuck me, please.” His hand leaves Vegeta’s back then, disappearing under the pillow beneath him as he retrieves a bottle lube. 

“What the fuck, Gohan?” Vegeta says, unable to stop the laugh that bubbles up from his chest. The brat grins at him and kisses him again. 

“Your wife is very accommodating.” He growls, nipping Vegeta’s lower lip. 

“Vulgar brat.” The prince chuckles, taking the bottle of lube from him and moving to kiss down Gohan’s neck and chest. He pauses at every scar, tracing them with his tongue before pressing a gentle kiss to each one. 

He kisses down Gohan’s body, flicking his tongue against the brat’s flesh, taking his time and tasting every inch of him as he moves lower. He slides down the waistband of Gohan’s sweatpants, tracing every groove and vein and scar with his tongue, grazing his teeth over the younger man’s hip bones. Gohan sighs and drops his head back, moaning softly when Vegeta kisses over his thighs, latching onto his skin on the inner portion of one and sucking a bruise there. He licks over it, then bites down hard, shuddering at the rough groan he pulls from the brat. 

Vegeta pushes Gohan’s thighs open wide then, settling between his legs and wrapping his hand around the younger man’s cock. He starts stroking him slowly, twisting his hand at the base. 

“Oh fuck.” Gohan moans and arches his back. Vegeta leans forward and presses a kiss to his tip, opening his mouth and swirling his tongue over Gohan’s cockhead. He kisses and licks over the full length of his shaft, drawing his tongue up the vein on the underside, tracing the ridges of his cockhead and teasing the sensitive spot just below it with the tip of his tongue. Gohan moans deep in his chest, and fucks his hips up impatiently. Vegeta chuckles and decides not to tease the brat too much, and swallows him down. 

He bobs his head, taking him deeper and deeper with each pass, his hand corkscrewing at his base. He pulls away just long enough to squeeze some lube onto his fingers, then goes down again, petting at Gohan’s entrance with one hand as he works the younger man’s cock with the other. The first press of his fingers inside Gohan has the brat tensing and gasping, and Vegeta pulls off again and presses sweet kisses to his thighs. 

“Easy.” He murmurs against Gohan’s skin. “Breathe deep and slow.” He pushes his fingers in a little deeper, letting Gohan adjust before he starts sliding the digit in and out of him. “Good boy.” He rumbles when the brat finally huffs and relaxes. He leans in again and licks up the length of Gohan’s cock, adding another finger as he swallows him once more. 

“That feels… really weird, Vegeta.” The brat murmurs after a moment, and Vegeta hums, amused, and pushes his fingers deep inside him, curling them and rubbing against his prostate. Gohan gasps and arches his back at the touch, moaning roughly when Vegeta pumps his fingers and does it again. “Oh  _ fuck _ .” He whimpers, his voice strangled, and his whole body convulses as Vegeta works him mercilessly. “Stop, I’m gonna come. And I don’t… I don’t wanna just yet.” Vegeta pulls off and smirks at him, withdrawing his fingers and crawling back up over his body. 

“What do you want?” He growls, kissing his lips. Gohan hums and kisses him back. 

“Already told you.” He murmurs into Vegeta’s mouth. 

“I want to hear it again, brat.” Vegeta says, lifting up to smirk at him. 

“Want you to fuck me, Vegeta.” Gohan replies, a fierce heat in his gaze. “Wanna come on your cock.” Vegeta growls at him again, baring his teeth, then rolls up onto his knees between the brat’s legs. He squeezes more lube into his hand and palms himself, smirking again when Gohan bites his lower lip, watching intently as he strokes himself slowly. Vegeta lays over him again, hooking one arm under one of the younger man’s legs and pushing it up against his chest. He drops his other hand to line them up, then claims Gohan’s lips again as he pushes slowly inside. He feels Gohan tense and stops, pulling back to kiss his jaw. 

“Relax, brat.” He whispers, and the younger man huffs, breathing in deeply through his nose. “That’s right. Just breathe.” He kisses all over Gohan’s face, running one hand along his body. Vegeta sinks the rest of the way inside him when he finally unclenches again, groaning when he bottoms out and falling still. He kisses Gohan deeply, swallowing the younger man’s sharp exhale as he begins to rock gently. “Are you okay?” Vegeta murmurs against his lips. 

“Yeah, just… kinda… um…” Gohan says, biting his lip again. Vegeta chuckles and lifts up, reaching to pull Gohan’s other leg to his chest and bracing his own weight on his knees. He begins thrusting again, the new angle allowing him to more easily hit that sweet spot within the younger man. Gohan moans and pushes his head back, his fingernails digging into Vegeta’s shoulder as he clutches him. “Fuck, that’s— oh my god,  _ that _ feels fucking  _ amazing _ .” Vegeta chuckles softly, rolling his hips as he picks up the pace, fucking into him in earnest. 

“So fucking tight. Feels so good.” Vegeta groans, bowing his head and arching his back. Gohan moans and drags his nails across Vegeta’s arm. 

“Harder, Vegeta.” He huffs, his hand moving to push into Vegeta’s hair and pulling him down into a kiss, groaning at the stretch in his thighs. Vegeta growls and drives into him hard, their hips colliding with a sharp slap with each stroke. Gohan moans, long and low, and bites at Vegeta’s mouth hungrily. “Fuck, I’m coming, Vegeta.” He cries, moaning again, ragged and strained, when Vegeta shifts and redoubles his assault, slamming into Gohan brutally. 

Gohan’s hand drops to his own cock, tugging frantically, beginning to fall apart. He comes hard, arching his back as best he can in this position and spilling wildly over his chest. Vegeta’s hips stutter, completely floored by the pretty flush over the younger man’s face and the gorgeous mess all over his perfect body, and he follows him over the edge, coming inside him with a low groan. He stills over Gohan, dropping his legs and collapsing on top of him, pressing his face into the younger man’s neck. Gohan’s arm wraps around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. 

“Dunno what I’d do without you, Vegeta.” Gohan breathes after a moment. “Promise me you won’t ever leave.”

“You know I can’t promise that, Gohan.” Vegeta sighs. 

“Then promise me you’ll try. Promise you won’t ever give up. Please, Vegeta, I need to hear it.” His voice shakes and Vegeta lifts up, staring down at him with wide eyes as tears spill over the younger man’s cheeks. 

“Gohan…” He starts, but the brat bares his teeth at him. 

“ _ Please _ , Vegeta. Promise you won’t give up. No matter what. Promise you’ll fight, no matter what happens.” He sobs openly then, his fingertips pressing hard into the older man’s back, and Vegeta sighs and leans down to press a sweet kiss to his lips. 

“I promise I will fight. For you, for Bulma, and for Trunks.” He murmurs, cupping his cheek and kissing him again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn’t expect to have this out as quickly as I did lol. I didn’t get any work over the weekend, so I had some extra time to work on it
> 
> Anyway, I do want to note really quickly here that Trunks is a little more like his present day counterpart in this story because, well, he’s got his dad in his life. Canon Future Trunks had Gohan as a father figure, and Gohan’s a big ol’ dork, so naturally Trunks is a little more gentle and polite and sweet. But present Trunks is a whole lot like his dad, and so I think this alternate version of Future Trunks that I’ve created would be somewhere between the two, which is what I tried to illustrate in this chapter. Also, I did age him up just a little bit, like a year, because 13 year old Trunks fits the scene better than 11/12 year old Trunks does


	4. Happy Birthday, Gohan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, despite the title, this is not a happy chapter. Heed the archive warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Darkening skies, coming this way_   
>  _Falling behind, into nothing"_

Bulma enlists her mom to help make a cake for Gohan’s 22nd birthday. Trunks helps too, sort of, while Vegeta takes the birthday boy out so that they can set up the surprise party. They’d successfully convinced Gohan that they’d all forgotten, and they’d all almost immediately blown it at the absolutely dejected look on his sweet face. 

Chi Chi and the Ox King arrived a few minutes after Vegeta and Gohan left, and Chi Chi had immediately set to work cooking mountains of food, happy to leave the cake stuff to Bulma and Panchy. 

The Ox King and Dr. Briefs hang the decorations and haul the presents out of storage, and once everything is set, Bulma pings Vegeta’s smartwatch to let him know. 

They show up about half an hour later, and the moment Gohan walks in they all jump out and shout  _ surprise! _ Gohan jumps out of his skin and stares, tears welling in his dark eyes as he takes in the room and all the people within it. 

“Wow, you guys.” He says softly, swiping at his face. “Wow, this is amazing.”

“Happy birthday, honey!” Chi Chi says, wrapping her son in a bone-crushing hug. “I hope we didn’t upset you by making you think we’d forgotten.”

“No, no, of course not!” He laughs, putting his hand on her shoulder when she pulls away. 

“Gosh, you’re so grown up.” Chi Chi murmurs, lifting a hand to touch his hair. “Your dad would be so proud of you, Gohan.”

“You think so?” He asks, his eyes widening. Chi Chi chuckles softly. 

“I know so, sweetie.” She replies with a smile. “Now c’mon. Let’s eat.”

Vegeta steps up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and smirking when the younger Saiyan looks down at him. 

“Happy birthday, brat.” He rasps, then moves stiffly to the table and sits down heavily in his usual seat. 

“Babe, maybe you should take a shower and change first.” Bulma says sternly as she sets a plate down in front of Trunks. 

“Yeah, dad, you’re all sweaty.” Trunks says, pointing at him with his fork before digging into his food. 

“I’m hungry.” Vegeta snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. Gohan sets a bottle of water in front of him then, a strange look on his face, and Vegeta accepts it gratefully, draining the whole thing in one go. Bulma frowns and pinches her nose. 

“Great, so now we get to smell you the whole time we’re eating.” She teases, her voice nasally, and everyone laughs. Except for Gohan. 

“Go easy on him.” He murmurs, low enough so that only she can hear. “He pushed himself really hard yesterday, and I think he’s feeling it today.”

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t push himself so hard, then.” She replies haughtily. Gohan chuckles. 

“Yeah, try telling him that.” He says, taking the plate his mom offers him and sitting down next to Trunks. 

They laugh and eat and enjoy themselves into the wee hours of the night, and no one notices Vegeta sneak off by himself until the party begins to wind down. Bulma goes looking for him, careful that no one notices her, and finds him in their bed, curled on his side with the blanket pulled up over his head. She sits down next to him and tugs the blanket down, smiling when he turns and blinks up at her. 

“Hey, you feeling okay?” She asks, putting a hand to his forehead. He’s warmer than normal, but then, Saiyans typically run warmer than humans anyway. 

“Fine.” He huffs, turning to face her and throwing an arm across her lap. “Just tired.”

“Did you shower?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good.” Bulma giggles. “Didn’t wanna have to kick you out when you look so comfy.” Vegeta just snorts. “You know how much I love you, right honey?” 

“Course.” He says with another snort. His arm tightens around her waist then, pulling her toward him. She hums and scoots over, lying down as he puts both arms around her and tucks his head under her chin. “Love you, too.” And it’s such a rare thing for this hardened warrior to express his feelings that she still feels her heart stutter in her chest everytime he does, blushing and squirming like an awkward teenager. “Know I don’t say it enough.”

“That’s okay, honey. I know.” She murmurs, cradling his head against her chest. But then he lifts up, looking into her face searchingly, and sighs deeply. 

“I have neglected you for a long time. I am sorry.” He says, sliding a hand up over her chest and neck to cup her cheek. 

“It’s okay, Vegeta. I understand.” She replies, her breath catching in her throat. Vegeta frowns, his gaze dropping to her lips, then leans up to kiss her gently. 

“You deserve better, Bulma.” He whispers against her lips. “And I will try to be better.”

“Oh honey.” Bulma gasps, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh honey, you are everything I’ve ever wanted or needed. Don’t think for a second that I would put up with you if you were anything less.” He snorts again at that, more like a laugh this time, then kisses her again. He slides his tongue across her bottom lip and she parts them immediately, shivering as he presses his tongue into her mouth and deepens the kiss. She hums and pushes him onto his back, climbing on top of him, and her heart jumps into her throat when his hands land on her hips and knead gently. 

He kisses her long and deep, and she sinks into him easily, pressing herself against his body and running her hands along his bare chest. His fingers tease at the tail of her shirt, slipping underneath and ghosting over her skin, and she couldn’t have stopped the moan that leaves her mouth if she’d wanted to. It’s been so long since he’s let her touch him like this, since he’s touched her, since they’ve kissed, and she had  _ missed _ him so fucking much. She grinds her hips down, shivering at his soft groan, delighted to find him fully hard in his pants already. 

She sits up, grinning at the absolutely ravenous look on his face, and pulls her shirt and bra over her head together. He growls and surges upward, flipping her onto her back and kissing down her chest. She moans loudly when he captures one nipple between his lips, sucking gently. He opens his mouth and swirls his tongue around it, kissing and licking and sucking until her back is arching at the oversensitivity, then moving to her other nipple and repeating the process. She’s trembling by the time he kisses up her neck and claims her lips again, and she can feel him smirk when she starts pushing at the waistband of his pants. 

He sits up on his knees and grins down at her, then pushes his pants and underwear down together, his cock bobbing free and standing proudly. She watches him palm himself, biting her lip as he makes a show of it, rolling his hips so that all the lean muscles in his abdomen tighten and stand out deliciously as he fucks his fist. She sits up then, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to sit down, and climbs into his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and grinds down on him, and he moans roughly and grabs her ass, tearing her pants off of her and kissing her fiercely. And she doesn’t even have time to be upset that he’s just destroyed her pants before he’s reaching between them and lining himself up at her entrance, both of them moaning raggedly as she sinks down onto his cock. 

They’re still for a moment, just kissing and touching and whispering, and Bulma revels in the quiet intimacy of the moment, committing every detail to memory as she traces his sharp, handsome features with her fingers. And he kisses her so sweetly that her heart swells with all the love and adoration she has for him, that she’s always had for him, and she can’t believe how perfect, how beautiful and sexy and attentive he is, or how she could have ever gotten so lucky. 

He moans when she begins to rock in his lap, dropping his head to her shoulder and pressing kisses to her skin. His big hands tighten on her hips, pulling her gently to encourage a faster pace, and she pushes him back onto the bed. He props himself up on one elbow, his other hand still kneading at her hip, and when he looks up at her, there is so much love and lust and want and  _ need _ in his gaze that it takes her breath away. 

She puts her hands on his chest and rolls her hips, riding him into the mattress and moaning loudly, and he drops flat on his back with a groan and fucks his hips up to meet each stroke. She leans back and bounces on his cock, and he grabs her hips and begins to dictate her rhythm, thrusting powerfully and hitting her g-spot. 

“I’m close.” She moans, her hand drifting between her legs. He slaps it away, pressing his thumb to her clit and stroking her himself. 

“Let go, Bulma.” He growls, and she does, coming with a desperate cry, so hard that she sees stars. He surges up then and pins her to the bed, fucking her hard as he chases his own pleasure, and he comes just a moment after her with a low groan, his hips stuttering as he spills deep inside her. He collapses on top of her, breathing hard, then rolls to his side and pulls her against his chest. She wraps her arms around his narrow waist and squeezes him hard, pressing her face against his neck and feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. 

“I love you.” She says again, kissing his throat and shivering as one calloused hand skates up and down her back. 

“I love you too.” Vegeta murmurs softly, kissing the top of her head and sighing contentedly. 

—

She wakes up to him coughing. 

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, coughing so hard he gags, and she’s up and rubbing his back before her brain has a chance to fully come online. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Bulma asks, grabbing his arm. He shakes his head, still coughing wetly, and reaches over to grip her knee. She stands up and steps in front of him, grabbing his wrists and pulling his arms above his head. “C’mon, Vegeta, straighten up. You gotta open up your lungs.” He nods and does as he’s told, then gasps and doubles over, ripping his arms free and clutching at his chest with a strangled cry. “Oh, no.” She breathes, backing away. “Oh no, no, no.” She grabs her housecoat and runs to the doorway, screaming for Trunks. He pokes his head out of his room, absolute terror on his face at the sound of her voice. 

“What? Mom, what the hell is going on?” He demands, rushing to her and grabbing her arms. 

“I need you to get the heart virus medication.” She says, on the verge of panic. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to  _ Vegeta _ , of all people. 

“What, why? Are you—“

“Just go, Trunks! Hurry!” She snaps, then shoves the kid down the hall, wincing when he trips and falls to his knees. “I’m sorry, baby, just please go get the medicine.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going.” He says, his eyes shiny, and then he takes off running toward the stairs. She hears Vegeta huff a shaky laugh behind her, still coughing, and when she looks at him, her own heart nearly stops. He’s looking down at his hand, at the blood dripping over the sides of his palm, and when he looks up at her, there is a crazy sort of amusement in his eyes. 

“Damn.” He rasps, taking a ragged breath and coughing again. “Never thought it’d be the fucking heart virus that got me.” 

“It’s not gonna get you, honey.” She growls, stalking back to him and kneeling in front of him. “Trunks is getting the medicine. You’re gonna be fine.” He curls in on himself again, moaning as pain wracks through his body. 

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Gohan yells suddenly, quite literally crashing into the room. Vegeta waves a hand and coughs hard, slumping sideways. 

“M’gonna pass out.” He slurs just a few seconds before he does, collapsing onto the bed and convulsing. Gohan is beside him in a flash, his hands on the older man’s chest and tears in his eyes. 

“No, no, this can’t be happening. This can’t— not again. Not again.” He whispers to himself, his face crumpling. He leans over Vegeta, putting his head on his chest and listening hard. “God, his heartbeat’s so weak. Do you have—“

“Trunks is getting it.” Bulma says, grabbing Vegeta’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “God, Vegeta, please hold on.” 

He comes to a few moments later, his eyes glazed and distant as he drags air into his lungs. 

“I am not…” he wheezes, placing a hand on Gohan’s head where it’s still resting on his chest, “going to die… like this.”

“No, you’re not. You’re gonna take the medication and you’re gonna get better.” Bulma says, squeezing his hand. He shakes his head and struggles to sit up. 

“No… maybe dying in bed… of an illness… was good enough… for Kakarot… but not for me. I am a warrior. A prince. I will not die… in bed… like a coward.” He pushes Gohan away and snatches his hand back from Bulma. “I am going to die… fighting. Like my father. Like his father. Like any Saiyan warrior… worthy of our race’s… noble blood.”

“Vegeta, stop. The medication can help you. It can stop the virus.” Gohan says, grabbing Vegeta’s arms as he tries to stand. Vegeta growls at him and flares his ki, knocking Bulma and Gohan both away, then stands and stumbles across the room. He pulls on a training gi, his hands shaking and his body swaying, then stumbles out of the room. 

“Gohan, you have to stop him.” Bulma cries, grabbing him and pushing him toward the door. He runs into Trunks in the doorway, knocking the boy down. 

“Gohan! What’s going on?” Trunks sobs, his whole body shaking. Gohan doesn’t answer him. Instead, he just grabs the heart medication out of Trunks’s hand and takes off. “Mom, what the  _ fuck _ is happening?” 

“It’s gonna be alright, baby. Gohan’s gonna take care of it.” Bulma says, unable to stop the tears from spilling over her cheeks. 

“Then why are you crying?” Trunks asks, and when she finally looks at him, she can see that he’s on the verge of hysterics. She takes a deep breath and centers herself, then forces a smile and holds out her arms. He scrambles to her immediately, clinging to her like his life depends on it, and she hugs him back. 

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. We’re gonna be okay.” She murmurs into his hair. “We’re gonna be okay.”

—

“Vegeta, stop!” Gohan screams, flying fast to catch up to the older Saiyan. 

To his surprise, it doesn’t take much. 

Vegeta moves slowly through the air, just seeming to wander absently, and he startles when Gohan touches him. 

“Go home, Gohan.” He growls, glancing at him. “I don’t need your help.”

“The virus isn’t a death sentence, Vegeta. The medication will help, you just need to come back to Capsule Corp and take it and rest.” Gohan pleads, squeezing his arm. 

“It’s too late, Gohan.” Vegeta says softly, looking at him with such sadness in his eyes that Gohan recoils from him in shock. “Something has been wrong for a long time. I’ve been ignoring it.” He wheezes, clutching his chest and closing his eyes as the pain grips him again. “Remember… when we were… sparing?” He coughs, blood flecking his lips. “And I blacked out?”

“Yeah.” Gohan says. “Shit. But Vegeta, there’s still time. We can fix this.”

“Don’t you get it, Gohan?” The older man says, looking away. “I don’t want to be sick in bed. The medication won’t work, I’ll just be a drain on resources.”

“That’s stupid, Vegeta.” Gohan snaps. “Sorry, but it is. The medication will still work. Just come home. Please.”

“Fuck off.” Vegeta snarls, turning and shooting away. Gohan takes off after him again, catching up to him easily, and reaches out to grab his arm again. 

“Just stop, Vegeta, you’re being ridiculous.” Gohan growls, supporting him when he stops and collapses into another coughing fit. He pulls him closer, wrapping his arm around the older man’s waist, and Gohan is surprised when he lets him guide him back toward Capsule Corp. 

“Shouldn’t be so close to me.” Vegeta rasps, leaning hard on Gohan’s shoulder. 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be so stubborn.” Gohan replies with a snort. 

“Think m’gonna pass out again.” He huffs. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Gohan murmurs. Vegeta sags against him almost immediately, and Gohan adjusts his grip, carrying him the rest of the way home. 

—

They manage to keep Vegeta in bed for three days. On the fourth day, an explosion rocks West City, so big that Gohan and Trunks feel it from the middle of the desert nearly 100 miles away, where they had spent the afternoon sparring. Gohan feels Vegeta’s energy signature spike, weaker than he is used to, and streak away from Capsule Corp. Gohan turns mid-strike and takes off, yelling an apology over his shoulder at Trunks and hoping the kid doesn’t follow him. 

“C’mon, old man, don’t you dare engage before I get there.” Gohan growls, pushing hard. “I know you can feel me. You fucking wait, Vegeta, please.” Vegeta’s ki soars, expanding and quadrupling in an instant, and Gohan grits his teeth. “Stop it, you fool.” He seethes, ascending and flying so fast he can hardly see. He thinks of his father, training him to become a Super Saiyan, ascending with more effort than Gohan had thought was necessary and sweating like he was fighting for his life. He remembers his father collapsing, his hair fading to black as he’d clutched his chest and  _ screamed _ . 

He’d lost consciousness that day, and he never woke up again. 

Gohan can’t let that happen to Vegeta too. 

He’s almost there when he feels Vegeta’s power tank, diving down so low he almost can’t feel it anymore, and panic explodes in his chest, flushing through his veins like ice water. And somehow he finds another gear, flying so fast that he has to close his eyes against the wind, relying entirely on his other senses to keep from hitting buildings as he rockets into the city. 

The androids are gone when Gohan finally slams to a halt above the devastation they’d left behind, and his heart is pounding so hard in his chest that he can’t focus long enough to find Vegeta’s ki. He lands, doubling over and bracing his hand on his knee as he drags air into his lungs, looking around frantically for any trace of the Saiyan prince. 

Finally, he calms down just enough to feel Vegeta nearby, a shockingly weak thrum of energy pulsing slowly under a pile of rubble. Gohan scrambles to it, raising his ki and  _ pushing _ , clearing the debris in an instant. He finds Vegeta there, lying on his side in a pool of blood, his one good eye impossibly wide as he gasps for breath, and Gohan knows the second he sees him that it’s too late. He falls to his knees at the prince’s side, putting his hand on his shattered arm, and if Vegeta knows he is there he doesn’t show it. 

There are no confessions. No apologies. No impassioned monologues begging for Gohan to continue the fight. No pleas for revenge. No heartfelt goodbyes. There’s just Vegeta, broken and drowning in his own blood, already dead and waiting for his body to finally catch up. There’s just Gohan, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watches Vegeta’s eye dim and fix, his pupil dilating as he drags in one last shallow breath, lets it out with a rattling hiss, and never draws another. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo yeah... I'm sorry
> 
> I did watch the History of Trunks special, and one of my favorite parts of the whole thing is how jarring Gohan's death is. It's not dramatic or drawn out or even dignified. Trunks literally just finds him dead, face down in a puddle. So I wanted to invoke that a bit here. 
> 
> A few notes on the heart virus and why I did it the way I did. So one of the warning signs of heart failure is coughing up blood-tinged mucus. This is because the heart is no longer pumping blood efficiently, and the blood begins to back up into the lungs via the vessels that return oxygenated blood to the heart, which causes fluid to build up into the lungs. Because the heart virus is a little more aggressive than heart failure, I decided to just make this discharge straight up blood.
> 
> Anyway, I think there will be one more chapter after this one. Maybe two, depending on how long the next one runs. Regardless, they will not be happy. I'm sorry in advance lol


	5. Pepper Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Blinded I wait  
> The end is forming  
> You are my fate  
> Give me warning”

“I don’t want you training Trunks anymore.” A very pregnant Bulma had said sternly. “It just encourages this fantasy that one day he’ll get to avenge his father, and it’s gonna get him killed.”

But that had been six months ago, and since the baby had come, Bulma hadn’t really had the time to watch her only son. Of course, Gohan doesn’t particularly want Trunks fighting either. He’s strong and always getting stronger, just like his father, but he’s still just a kid and Gohan feels responsible for him. Especially after…

Well…  _ after _ . 

And perhaps it would have been easier to tell the kid that he needed to take care of his mother while Gohan faced the androids alone. But the fact remained that the only way for Trunks to truly be able to take care of his mother was to train and fight and become a Super Saiyan. There was really no other way around it. Trunks had to be ready to pick up Gohan’s mantle, should the worst come to pass. Watching little Bulla bounce around in her jumper, laughing and squealing as Trunks makes faces at her, only serves to emphasize that fact. 

One day, Gohan would die. It was inevitable. And Trunks would have to be ready to step up. 

God, he sounds like Vegeta. 

Gohan shudders at the thought, gritting his teeth against the ache in his chest, and takes a deep breath. Trunks notices him then, standing up immediately with a broad smile on his face, and rushes to him, wrapping his arms around Gohan’s waist and squeezing tightly. 

“Oh my god, it’s been a million years since I’ve seen you!” Trunks says, laughing to cover the thickness of his voice, and Gohan chuckles and hugs him back. 

“It’s only been two weeks, little brother.” He replies, patting the boy’s back. 

“Same thing.” Trunks snorts, squeezing him harder. Gohan chuckles and pushes the boy away. 

“Is your mom around?” He asks, lowering his voice. 

“Yeah, she’s working in her lab. Want me to get her?” Trunks replies, taking a few steps back and looking up at him. 

“No.” Gohan says with a smile. “Are you on babysitting duty? Or are your grandparents around to take over?”

“Yeah, my grandma’s making lunch in the kitchen.” Trunks frowns then, crossing his arms over his chest, looking so much like Vegeta that Gohan has to look away. 

“Perfect.” He says, looking instead at Bulla. “Go tell her that you’re going with me to the river to fish.” And Trunks brightens immediately, breaking the illusion, and turns on his heel to dash into the kitchen. He returns moments later, picking up Bulla and her jumper together and taking her into the kitchen too, then dashes back to Gohan and grabs his hand. 

“Okay, she said it’s cool.” He hisses conspiratorially, dragging Gohan behind him. “C’mon, let’s get the hell outta here!”

“Slow down, kid.” Gohan chuckles, letting him pull him out the door. 

They take to the skies the moment they are outside, flying hard and fast for the wastelands that they used to train in before… before. Gohan hasn’t been back here since that day almost a year and a half ago, and there’s something distinctly wrong about returning now. Of course, there’s something distinctly wrong about returning to West City too, and Capsule Corp. There’s something distinctly wrong about talking to Bulma, about hanging out with Trunks, about holding little Bulla in place of the father she’d never know, but he does all of these things anyway, doesn’t he? 

What is one more wrong in his life?

He hasn’t seen his mother or grandfather in nearly a year now. He can’t bring himself to visit them. He’s scared of the trouble that seems to follow him everywhere, dogging him at every turn, taking everyone from him without mercy. He can’t bear losing them too. And he doesn’t want to doom Trunks to the same fate, but Trunks is the only other person on earth capable of one day defeating the androids, and he can’t waste all that talent just because he doesn’t want him getting hurt. 

He has to get the boy to transform. He has to unlock all that power that Vegeta had passed down to him. It’s the only way to ensure the safety of everyone they love. 

“So where did you go, Gohan?” Trunks asks as they near their training grounds, and Gohan slows and allows the kid to come up alongside him. 

“I was training.” He says simply. “Up on the ice continent. Had to push myself.”

“Are you gonna stick around this time?” 

“Maybe.”

They are silent the rest of the way to the large clearing that serves as their ring, and Gohan isn’t particularly interested in breaking that silence when they touch down. Instead, he crouches low and drops his weight into his heels, assuming the sparring form his father had taught him just before he’d died. 

“I’m not playing around with you anymore, kid.” Gohan says, watching Trunks mirror him carefully. “You either focus or you get hurt. Understand? You’re not a baby anymore, and I’m not gonna treat you like one.”

“Sounds good to me, big brother.” Trunks replies, schooling his features into something more serious.

Gohan launches at him without warning, looking to end the fight the moment it starts, and Trunks reacts in kind. He raises his arms and blocks Gohan’s strike, parrying smoothly and countering with a precise kick that Vegeta would have been proud of, hitting Gohan squarely in the back and sending him flying. 

“Nice work!” Gohan praises, recovering quickly and flashing back into Trunks’s space. He pushes the boy around, forcing him onto his back foot, and Trunks spreads his stance and ducks under Gohan’s hook, kicking his legs out from under him and taking him down. “Excellent.” Gohan gasps, grinning up at Trunks when he crouches next to him. 

“Thanks. I’ve been practicing the stuff dad taught me.” He replies with a broad smile, then offers Gohan a hand. He takes it gratefully, letting Trunks pull him up, and dusts himself off. 

“You’ve got incredible instincts, little brother.” He says, dropping down again for round two. “You’re doing exactly what you need to. You’re ending the fight before it has a chance to get out of your control. The longer a fight goes, the worse your odds are, Trunks. You can’t forget that. Even when these fucking Saiyan instincts are screaming at you to draw it out and enjoy it, you have to fight like your life depends on it. Because it does. You hear me?”

“Yeah, Gohan, I hear you.” Trunks says, mirroring him again. 

“Good. Let’s go again. Ready?”

“Ready.”

—

“I thought I told you that I don’t want you training my son.” Bulma whisper screams, as though Trunks doesn’t have superhuman hearing and can’t hear her through the door. 

“I’m sorry, Bulma.” Gohan’s gentle voice says pleadingly. “But what happens if Capsule Corp is attacked and I’m not around to protect you guys?”

“We have a bomb shelter, Gohan. We can hide.”

“Bulma, whether you like it or not, your son is a  _ Saiyan _ . And his father was  _ Vegeta _ , which probably makes it worse. He’s not going to hide. He’s going to fight, whether he’s ready for it or not. It’s in his blood. And I would rather he be ready when the time comes.”

“He most certainly is  _ not _ going to fight. He’s gonna do what his mother tells him.”

“Bulma, come on. You know as well as I do that there is nothing either one of us could say to keep that boy from fighting.  _ Especially _ if you and Bulla are in danger.”

“I can’t lose him too, Gohan! I can’t! It’ll kill me!”

And then she’s crying. Trunks hears Gohan sigh. 

“I know. I  _ know _ , Bulma.” He says gently. “But the only way to prevent that is to teach him how to take care of himself. Would you rather him train and be ready to fight? Or would you want him to try to fight and not know what the hell he's doing?”

There’s a very long pause, and then Bulma’s voice again, muffled, as though her face is pressed into Gohan’s chest. 

“I’m just scared, Gohan.” She sobs. “Losing Vegeta nearly killed me. If not for Trunks, I don’t know what I would have done. I can’t lose him too.”

“I know.” Gohan murmurs, his voice suddenly thick. “I can’t either. That’s why I have to train him. He has to be ready.”

—

“Hey Gohan?” Trunks asks quietly, turning his head to look at his friend and mentor. They’d been lying in the grass for almost an hour, neither of them speaking, just watching the clouds roll over them and listening to the birds sing. It’s easy in these moments to forget that the world is steadily ending around them, and Trunks had long ago learned to treasure them while they lasted. 

“What’s up, little brother?” Gohan says, turning his head to look at Trunks. 

“Do you think we’ll ever defeat the androids?” Trunks asks quietly, knowing that this will ruin the rest of the afternoon but needing to hear Gohan assure him that one day they will be free and safe. 

“I don’t know, Trunks.” The older man says instead, looking back up at the sky. “In a perfect world, yeah.”

“It's not a perfect world, though.” Trunks huffs, frowning and searching Gohan’s profile. 

“No, it’s not.” He agrees. Trunks supposes that’s his real answer. 

“I’m scared, Gohan.” He murmurs softly, closing his eyes against the tears that suddenly well in them. He feels Gohan’s hand on his head, a comforting touch that Trunks appreciates. 

“I know, kiddo.” He replies with a sigh. “Me too.”

—

Gohan’s gone for nearly a month this time. He didn’t tell them where he was going. He didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t say anything at all. He just disappeared, like he always does when he leaves to train alone, going completely dark on them until he decides he’s ready to return. 

Trunks always wonders what he’s doing when he leaves. He wonders if he’s safe. He wonders if he’s taking care of himself. 

Bulma always says that leaving like this must be some Saiyan instinct, because Goku and Vegeta had done it too, but that’s bullshit. Trunks doesn’t feel the need to disappear. He doesn’t feel the need to run away and isolate himself, pushing himself to the very limit of his abilities and then further, until he nearly fucking dies. 

Maybe he’s just not Saiyan enough. Too much of his pragmatic mother in him. 

Trunks doesn’t think that’s a bad thing. 

He’d loved his father. He still does, of course. But he couldn’t count how many times Vegeta had been too much to handle. He’d simply operated differently than Trunks, on another level that Trunks hoped he’d never experience himself. Bulma always says that it was the childhood trauma that had made his father the way he was, and Gohan too, to some degree. She believed that’s why they were so drawn to each other, too. And maybe she’s right. 

Maybe the quality of their trauma had been different enough from his to make them the way that they were and are. Or maybe it was the quantity instead, layers upon layers of torture and horror stacked one on top of the other, heavy enough to burden even the strongest man. And he knows he shouldn’t think that way. He knows his own horror is real. 

Hell, he has nightmares every night. 

Most vivid are the ones of his father, of Gohan carrying his lifeless body home. He’d seemed so small against Gohan’s shoulder. So fragile, like the slightest touch would shatter him to pieces. It was a bitter pill for a son to see his own father like that. He’d been the strongest man Trunks had ever known, and when Gohan had set him down on the bed in the infirmary, it had been so shockingly  _ wrong _ how his body had seemed to collapse in on itself. 

But then again, hadn’t that been Gohan’s horror, too? Another layer, stacked on top of all the others. It’s a miracle that he doesn’t collapse under the weight. 

—

The ice continent is an unforgiving hellscape, but it is a predictable one, and on the days Gohan can’t get out of his own head, it is the only place that can provide him any solace. He comes here and screams at the sky, letting his power expand out of his own control until there is nothing left, the ice shelves all around him blasted to pieces by the electricity that shoots off of his body until he finally collapses from exhaustion. His Saiyan blood keeps him warm as he sleeps, deep and dreamless. 

One day he’s going to push too far. He knows it. And it’s not as though that is what he really wants. 

_ But,  _ he thinks bitterly as he stands and dusts the snow and ice from his gi,  _ it wouldn’t be unwelcome in the slightest _ . 

“You’re a fool.” Vegeta huffs. “They need you.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Gohan snarls at the ghost perched on a nearby icy outcrop. “They need me like I needed you, you bastard.”

“You don’t need me, brat.” Vegeta says evenly, his dark eyes following him as he paces. “You need to let me go.”

“I don’t need to do shit. Don’t tell me what you think I need.”

“Gohan.”

“Shut  _ up! _ ” Gohan screams, tearing at his hair. “Get out of my head and leave me the fuck  _ alone _ .”

“Tell me, Gohan.” Vegeta says after a moment, sliding off the outcrop and walking toward him, through him, the tail he always has in these visions curling around him briefly without touching him. “What is the point of this? You tell my son that you come here to train, but all you really do is mope.”

“Shut up.”

“No, answer me, boy.” Vegeta growls, turning on him. “What does this accomplish? What are you gaining from it?”

“Well, I can actually sleep here.” Gohan snaps. “So there’s that.”

“You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” Vegeta sighs. “Too much like your circus clown of a father.”

“Sorry for having a heart, Vegeta. Which you broke, by the way.”

“You need to go home, Gohan.” Vegeta says, beginning to fade. “You can feel it, can’t you? You know it’s coming.” Vegeta chuckles, his tail whipping behind him. “So could I. So could Kakarot. Heed that feeling, Gohan. Go home.”

—

All his life, Gohan has been racing toward his own death. He’s always known, since he was so young, fighting for his life in the wasteland Piccolo had left him in all by himself. He’d been sure he would die out there, scared and alone. But he’d survived, just as he’d survived Nappa, and then Vegeta, and then Frieza. Even now, he was surviving, but that couldn’t last forever. One can only cheat death so many times. 

It would all catch up to him in the end. It always did. 

—

On good nights, Vegeta is still there in his dreams, and Gohan lets himself believe the lie for as long as possible. He is whole in these good dreams, with two dark eyes and an unblemished face, a long, brown-furred tail swishing gently behind him as he strides toward Gohan with a cocky smirk on his handsome face. This version of Vegeta is the one that had first arrived on earth; younger, perhaps less filled out, but so beautiful it takes Gohan’s breath away. 

And on these nights, when Vegeta crashes into him at full force, kissing him hard and biting at his mouth, his tail curling high around Gohan’s thigh, Gohan lets himself sink into the prince. They gasp and moan and rock together, and Gohan always wakes up with a sticky mess in his pants and a stupid grin on his face. 

But on bad nights, all Gohan can see is Vegeta lying in his own blood, gasping for breath and dying a slow, painful, undignified death. On these nights, the prince’s one good eye slides up to fix on him, and his lip curls into a snarl. 

“You should have been faster, brat.” He rasps in these dreams, the gurgle in his throat grotesque as blood spills from his lips. “You could have saved me. But instead you were too slow. Too  _ weak _ .” And Gohan wakes in a cold sweat, sitting bolt upright with a shout, his chest heaving. And he knows that it’s not really Vegeta who speaks to him on these nights, but when he drops his head into his palm and sobs brokenly, that thought is not a comfort. 

“This is unhealthy, you know.” Vegeta says from across the room. He’s sitting cross-legged on the ottoman in the far corner, 20 years younger, his long tail held high and swaying idly behind him. His elbows rest on his knees and his shoulders are hunched, but Gohan instinctively reads the posture of the prince’s tail and relaxes. 

“Well, I’m talking to a fucking ghost.” Gohan huffs, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Or a figment of my crazy, wildly overactive imagination, at the very least.”

“You’re just torturing yourself.” Vegeta continues with a snort. “Keep this up, and people will start to notice.”

“Like that matters.” Gohan replies. “You could always just leave me alone.”

“I most certainly would, if you’d let me.” Vegeta chuckles warmly. “But you keep calling out to me, and obviously resisting you is beyond my depth.”

“I miss you.” Gohan says, shrugging one shoulder. Vegeta hums softly. 

“You are a selfish brat.” He huffs, turning his nose up. “And I hate myself for missing you too.”

“Gee, you sure know how to make a guy blush.” Gohan growls, and Vegeta snorts at that. 

“This has to stop, Gohan.” He says after a moment, his voice quiet and gentle. “You can’t just live in the past. There is nothing for you there. Not anymore.”

“I don’t know how.” Gohan replies, his voice cracking. “Fuck, Vegeta, I’ve never known life without you. How am I supposed to just forget you and move on?”

“I said nothing about  _ forgetting _ me, you buffoon.” Vegeta snarls, his tail lashing. “But what’s done is done. You can’t change it, so you must move past it.”

“But I don’t want to. I want to go back, I want—“

“Life is not fair, Gohan. You learned that quite early on, didn’t you?” Vegeta sighs, looking down at the floor. “You can’t dwell on things you cannot change. It’s not healthy.”

“Why did you have to go on your own, anyway? Why didn’t you just wait for me?” Gohan murmurs, tears welling in his eyes. Vegeta sighs. 

“You know I can’t answer that.” He says, smiling when Gohan looks up at him. “I’m not real, brat.”

“I know.” Gohan sighs and flops onto his back again. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For letting you down.”

And then Vegeta is on top of him, translucent and intangible, smirking down at him. 

“You didn’t let me down, brat.” He murmurs, his eyes dropping to Gohan’s lips. “If anything, you saved me.” He leans forward as if to kiss Gohan then, disappearing just before their lips touch. 

Gohan sniffs and swipes at his eyes, staring at the ceiling and wishing he’d been killed instead. 

—

“C’mon, Trunks! Push harder!” Gohan snarls, ducking under his wild swing and countering hard. “You gotta be quicker. More precise.” He says, knocking Trunks back. 

“I’m doing the best I can, Gohan!” Trunks growls, flying back at him with his fist cocked back. Gohan dodges easily, grabbing Trunks’s shirt and tossing him aside. 

“You can do better. I know you can.” He snarls. “Dig deep, Trunks.”

Trunks screams then, blowing out his power and throwing himself at Gohan. He slams into him, hard enough to knock the wind out of the older man, and drives him back into the ground. 

“How’s that?” He huffs, standing up immediately and offering Gohan his hand. 

“Much better, kiddo.” Gohan chuckles, accepting the help and letting Trunks pull him to his feet. “You’re getting close, little brother. I can feel it. Just need to push a little harder.”

“You really think so?” Trunks asks skeptically. 

“I know so.” Gohan replies with a smile. 

—

“That one looks like a duck.” Trunks says, pointing up into the sky above them. They are relaxing on a hill outside of Pepper Town, laid out in the grass side by side, watching the clouds drift overhead. 

“Maybe a duck that’d been dunked in a vat of radioactive sludge.” Gohan teases, laughing when Trunks punches his shoulder. 

“Yeah? Well that one looks like your big fat head, you fucking nerd.” He growls, trying to keep from grinning and failing miserably. “Look, it’s even got your stupid hair.”

“Hey, that’s not very nice, punk.” Gohan snaps, mock hurt in his voice. “Especially coming from the kid with a bowl cut.”

“I saw those old pictures of when you and my mom went to Namek. I’m not the only one here who’s rocked a bowl cut.” Trunks says, unable to keep himself from laughing this time. 

“Fair enough.” Gohan chuckles, turning his head to look at the younger Saiyan fondly. Trunks smiles back at him, then looks up at the sky again, his face scrunching as he tries to find a new shape to point out.

“That one looks like a fish.” He says after a moment, but Gohan doesn’t say anything. “What, are you ignoring me, now?” He asks, looking over at his mentor again. He doesn’t expect to see Gohan sitting bolt upright, face like thunder and head tilted as he listens hard. “What’s wrong, Gohan?” Trunks whispers, sitting up and looking around. 

That’s when he hears the screaming. 

“Stay here.” Gohan says sternly, getting to his feet and raising his ki. 

“No way!” Trunks growls. “I’m  _ not _ letting you go alone.”

“It’s too dangerous, Trunks.” Gohan replies, glaring down at him with eyes that flicker teal. 

“Which is exactly why you need my help. If for no other reason than to get you the hell outta there if something goes wrong.” Trunks snaps, turning to face him fully. “Unless you  _ want _ to end up like my dad.” Gohan looks down at him, surprised. 

“That’s enough.” He says darkly, and Trunks flinches. “Stay. Here.”

“No. Way.” Trunks mocks him, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m going with you. You can’t fucking stop me.” 

Gohan considers him for a long moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek and narrowing his eyes as he seems to think it over. An explosion nearby makes him jump, his head snapping up to pinpoint it. 

“Okay.” He says at last, giving Trunks a tight smile. “Okay, c’mon.” 

“Finally.” Trunks huffs, turning toward the blast and—

“Sorry, little brother.”

—

It’s nighttime. Cold. Must be past midnight. 

Thunder cracks overhead, heralding the deluge seconds before it begins, freezing rain falling in sheets as flashes of lightning make everything appear in stop-motion. The air smells like ozone and fear. 

Trunks groans and pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, his body heavy and sluggish. He shakes his head and regrets it immediately, closing his eyes as the world pitches violently and tips him over onto his side. 

What the fuck had happened?

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans, curling in on himself as the rain soaks through his clothes. He rolls onto his belly and pushes himself up again, careful to move slowly, then sits up on his knees and looks around. 

Gohan. He had been with Gohan. And… and Pepper Town had been attacked, and Gohan…

Oh god. 

Trunks shoots to his feet, his head swimming, and he reaches out his senses, searching for Gohan’s ki signature. 

Nothing. 

He leaps into the air and blasts toward the city, scanning the ground below him for any sign of his friend and mentor. Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

He’s about to give up when he finally sees a flash of orange among the rubble, and he lands immediately, sprinting to his master’s side. 

“Gohan!” He screams, falling to his knees next to the older man, putting his hands on his back and shaking him hard. “Gohan, c’mon.” He sobs, his eyes welling as his panic rises. “Please don’t do this to me, it’s not funny. Please, Gohan.”

But Gohan doesn’t move. He just lies there, face down in the water and oily sludge pooling around him. Trunks reaches for his face, tracing gentle fingertips over his cheek, yanking his hand back when he finds him ice cold. He squeezes his eyes shut and leans over Gohan’s body, resting his forearms gently on the older man’s back and dropping his head as his tears spill over his cheeks, sobs wracking his body as he falls apart. 

The fucking androids. They took him. They took his father. They took everything, and they  _ never stop taking.  _ They just take, and take, and take and TAKE AND T A K E, destroying everything in their path until there is  _ nothing left _ , and…

And…

And he’s going to kill them. 

He sits up and  _ screams _ , roaring at the sky, his blood burning in his veins as he lets everything go. A bolt of heat and pain arcs up his spine and into the back of his skull, setting his fucking brain on fire as his ki spirals out of control, blowing out around him like lightning, golden and so intense he can barely contain it. 

So he doesn’t. He doesn’t even try. It hurts to hold it in, so he lets it out, lets it consume him, lets it burn everything he is to ash and leave nothing behind but pain and rage and hate. 

The next time Trunks is aware of himself, the city around him has been leveled for several hundred feet. He looks down at Gohan, lifeless at his feet, and suddenly he just doesn’t have the strength to stand anymore. He collapses over him, crying hard. 

What is he supposed to do now?

—

They bury Gohan next to his father. Chi Chi screams and cries and blames Trunks, and Trunks can’t bring himself to argue. They bury her next to Gohan less than a month later, and the Ox King next to her a week after that. Trunks blames himself for that, too. 

It would be so easy for him to wallow in his guilt and self-loathing. So easy to shut down and give up. But then his baby sister crawls into his lap, smiling and giggling, unaware of the turmoil and heartache that surrounds her, and he wipes his eyes and smiles back and promises her that he’ll fight. 

He’ll fight. Even if it kills him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more after this one, I think


	6. Hope!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Far across the emptiness I walk the night  
> And search the silence in the dark you left behind  
> I seek the stars above the world to be the guides  
> But they all pale against the light in your eyes”
> 
> Satellite  
> by Starset

“Goddamn, you are strong.” Trunks gasps, lying on his back and staring up at the sky. 

“Told ya. Been practicing.” Bulla says cheerfully, grabbing the hem of her bright pink shirt and curtsying. “When are we gonna fight the androids, big bro?”

“Hell, at this rate, you’ll probably be able to kill ‘em single-handedly before your 10th birthday.” Trunks laughs, sitting up and dusting himself off. “Dad would be so fucking proud of you, sis. Gohan too.”

“You really think so?” Bulla asks, her blue eyes huge. Trunks chuckles and stands up. 

“I know so.” He replies with a smile, then reaches down to ruffle her hair. “C’mon. Bet mom’s got lunch ready for us.”

“Good, I’m starved!” Bulla says, skipping ahead of him before blasting into the sky. “Race ya there!”

“You’re on, you little brat!” Trunks laughs, ascending and shooting past her. She shouts at him, and he looks over his shoulder to laugh at her and nearly falls out of the sky when he sees her streaking toward him, gaining ground way too fucking fast, her hair golden and eyes teal. “What the hell—“ Trunks shrieks, kicking it into high gear when she flashes past him, sticking her tongue out and cackling. 

“Eat my dust, Trunks!” She howls, and he pushes hard, trying to catch up to her and failing. 

“Holy shit, how is she so fucking  _ fast?” _ Trunks hisses. “Hey, don’t get too far ahead of me!”

“Then catch up!” She retorts, then fucking disappears. 

—

“You little shit.” Trunks gasps when he touches down at Capsule Corp, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees. Bulla is leaning against the wall next to the front door, admiring her nails with a smug look on her little face. “Do you know how dangerous it is to go ahead alone?”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s the big deal? Just because you couldn’t see me doesn’t mean I wasn’t still close.” She snorts, looking at him with one blue eyebrow raised. “I was flying  _ circles  _ around you, Trunks.”

“Bullshit.” Trunks huffs, bowing his head and chuckling breathlessly. “You weren’t  _ that  _ fast.”

“Was too.” She replies haughtily. “Now hurry up, or I’m gonna eat all the food, slow poke.”

“No way, pipsqueak, over my dead body.” He growls, jogging after her as she scoots into the building. 

“That can be arranged, big brother!” She cackles over her shoulder. 

“Cut it out, both of you.” Bulma says warmly when they burst into the kitchen. “Wash up, and I’ll get lunch on the table.”

“Kay, mom!” They both say, shoving each other at the sink. Bulma watches them, chuckling softly. 

“You Saiyans, I swear.” She murmurs, rolling her eyes, then begins piling food onto their plates. 

—

“We gonna train s’more today, or are you pooped, Trunks?” Bulla asks, following him out of the kitchen and down the hall. He shoots a grin at her over his shoulder and sighs. 

“I think you’re more like dad than I am.” He chuckles. “Nah, I think I’m wiped, sis. We’ll pick it back up tomorrow morning.”

“You’re such a wimp.” Bulla huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Y’know, Gohan always said that rest is just as important as training. Maybe even more important.” Trunks replies, walking into the living room and sitting down on the overstuffed couch in front of the TV. “You can’t fight if you’re too tired to move.”

“I guess.” Bulla grumbles, plopping down next to him.

“Hey, when did you learn to become a Super Saiyan, anyway?” Trunks asks, offended. Bulla shrugs and grins. 

“Just sorta happened one day.” She replies with a giggle. “You were out and I wanted to push myself. Powered up and suddenly  _ boom!  _ Everything was all shiny and gold.”

“Shit, you’re five years younger than I was when I transformed the first time, and I couldn’t do it until after…” He trails off, looking away. “Well, you know.”

“Tell me about dad again. And Gohan.” She says after a moment, glancing sideways at him. “What they were like.” 

Trunks hums softly and drops his head back against the couch. “Dad was the strongest and bravest guy on the planet.” He says quietly, glancing over at his little sister. “Fucking scary when he got mad. And tough as hell. Kinda like you, actually. You remind me of him a lot.” He smiles at her sadly and takes a deep breath. “Mom says he was a prince back on the Saiyan homeworld, before it was destroyed. He never talked about it, though.”

“That would make me a princess then, huh?” Bulla says proudly, puffing out her chest and making Trunks laugh. 

“Yeah, I guess it would.” He replies warmly. 

“Too bad our homeworld is destroyed.” She muses with a huff. “We coulda took mom and grandma and grandpa there. And dad and Gohan, too. Wouldna been any androids there.”

“No, but they’d still be killing people here on earth.” Trunks points out gently. “And it’s our responsibility to try and protect this place. It’s our home, and we’re the only people strong enough to defend it.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Bulla snorts, and Trunks sits forward, pinning her with a hard look. 

“Dad and Gohan gave their lives to protect the earth, Bulla. This was their home, too. It doesn’t matter if Planet Vegeta still existed or not. We’re here, and that’s all that matters.” He says sternly, reaching out and grabbing her little shoulder. 

“I know, Trunks.” She replies, abashed. “I’m sorry.”

“I know it’s frustrating and scary, sis. But we can’t lose sight of what we have to do. Okay?”

“Okay.” She sniffs and shakes his hand off her shoulder, turning to face him fully. “Tell me about Gohan again.” And Trunks can’t stop the tears that well in his eyes. 

“He was my best friend. My mentor. The only person who could make me feel better after dad died.” Trunks murmurs with a small smile. “He was kind and gentle and strong. I miss him a lot.”

“I’m sorry, Trunks. I shouldna asked.” Bulla says quietly. 

“No, it’s okay.” Trunks replies, swiping at his eyes. “It’s good to talk about him, I think. Both of them. Keeps them alive in a way.”

“Do you really think we’ll be able to kill the androids, Trunks?” Bulla asks after a long moment, and Trunks looks over at her, grinning wide enough to show all his teeth. 

“I  _ know _ we’ll kill ‘em, sis.” He growls. “We just gotta keep training. Keep pushing. Keep getting stronger.”

—

Trunks is hurt bad. Bulla can feel it, can feel his ki dropping like a stone, and she doesn’t hesitate. She blasts off after him, not caring that she’s doing the exact opposite of what he’d told her to do. Not that he’s all that good at following the rules either. How many times had he told her not to go off alone? He knows better, and now he’s hurt, and she’s gonna make sure to rub it all in his stupid face once she saves his stupid ass and gets him to safety. 

She’s there in a heartbeat, aiming one small foot at the girl android’s head and kicking her hard enough to send her flying. Then she flashes to her brother’s side and grabs his arm, shooting back into the sky before the androids can react and flying as hard and fast as she can back home. 

“You shouldn’t have come.” Trunks groans. 

“Well, good thing I did, you big jerk.” Bulla snaps, arranging him so that he’s easier to carry. “What were you thinking, Trunks?”

“Couldn’t let them just destroy everything.” He huffs. “Couldn’t— I’m gonna throw up, Bulla.” He pushes away from her and drifts down to the ground, collapsing on his hands and knees and vomiting into the grass. Bulla sighs and lands, kneeling next to him and rubbing his back. 

“God, you’re such a wimp, big brother.” She says with a laugh. He huffs again and shakes his head. 

“Okay, you’re right.” He says after a moment, spitting and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “I shouldn’t have gone alone.”

“Yeah, I know I’m right. I usually am.” Bulla teases. 

“That was one hell of a kick, by the way.” Trunks mumbles. “There’s no way we’re gonna… we’re gonna…” And then Bulla has to catch him before he falls face first into his own puke. 

“Ugh, now you smell like barf.” She growls, pulling his arm over her shoulders and lifting him gently into the air. “The things I put up with.”

—

Thanks to their genius mother and Trunks’s Saiyan genes, he’s back up and training in no time. And Bulla doesn’t cut him any slack, pushing him harder than perhaps he’s ready for. He doesn’t complain, and she wouldn’t let up even if he did. He’s always saying that the androids won’t play fair, and if his last encounter with them were any indication, that was a fact. 

So Bulla makes it her business to push him to his limits and beyond, even when it hurts her as much as it hurts him. She won’t lose him to those monsters. She won’t let her mother bury another loved one. 

“I’m starting to wonder who’s really in charge around here.” Trunks teases one day over lunch. They had been training hard in the wasteland that Trunks had trained in with Gohan when he was little, and Bulla had whipped his ass up and down and sideways all over the place. “How are you 14 fucking years younger than me, but you’re  _ leagues _ stronger than me?”

“Maybe I got more of dad’s elite genes.” Bulla fires back with a grin. Trunks snorts. They’re quiet for a long time, eating their sandwiches and enjoying each other’s company, but Bulla has a question that she’s been meaning to ask since Trunks had gone off on his own and gotten hurt. 

“Something bothering you, sis?” He asks, always so perceptive, and Bulla sighs. 

“Well, I was thinking maybe we outta try killing the androids.” She says bluntly, looking up at him and watching his good mood vanish in an instant. 

“No.” He says firmly, leaving no room for argument, but Bulla has never been one to allow anyone to shut her down. 

“You’re at least twice as strong as you were when they nearly killed you a few months ago, and I’m at least twice as strong as you are now. I think we have a real shot, Trunks.” She says, shoving the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth. 

“Maybe, but I don’t wanna take chances.” Trunks replies, frowning deeply. “You’re still a kid, Bulla. Strength isn’t everything.”

“So what?” Bulla snorts. “I won’t get experience without actually fighting them, y’know.”

“This isn’t a game. They’re not gonna just let up because you’re losing and let you come back later for a rematch.” Trunks growls. 

“Yeah, they’re also not gonna leave us alone forever either, Trunks.” Bulla replies. “I’d rather be proactive.”

Trunks sighs, long and suffering, and scrubs his face with his hands. “Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? And don’t ever go alone.”

“Maybe you should listen to your own advice, bro.” Bulla laughs. 

—

Three days later, the androids prove Bulla right. They show up in West City and blow up a building just a few blocks from Capsule Corp, entirely too close for comfort. 

“Be  _ careful _ you two.” Bulma yells as they dash out the door, shooting into the air and throwing a combined  _ don’t worry  _ over their shoulders. They ascend and fly straight toward the explosion, and when Trunks looks back at her, Bulla can see the terror in his eyes. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, sis.” He says. “We have to play this right, okay? I’ll take the male, you take the female. Don’t let them group up, or we’re finished.”

“Didn’t we decide the male is stronger than the female?” Bulla replies with a frown. 

“Yes, but he’s also the most careless. The female is more serious.” He huffs. “She’ll kill you the first chance she gets, Bulla. Don’t make me regret sending you to her.”

“Relax, bro.” Bulla says with a grin. “And hey, you be careful, too.” Trunks grins back and nods, then makes a hard right, aiming to flank the androids. Bulla, always the more direct of the two, barrels straight into the fight, colliding at full speed with the female android and driving her back through several buildings. 

“You little bitch, you’re the one that fucked up my face!” She snarls when Bulla finally knocks her away and squares up. 

“If anything, I made ya look better, you fucking glorified toaster.” Bulla replies with a grin, then flashes into the android’s space, throwing a punch that has all the weight of her ki in it. The impact is colossal, knocking the android back several hundred feet, and Bulla is right there in an instant, stopping her flight and dropping her straight into the ground. “C’mon, is this really the best you got?”

“I’m gonna kill you, bitch!” The android shrieks, blasting out of the crater she’d made and crashing into Bulla, punching and kicking, fighting at what is clearly her limit. Bulla laughs savagely and blocks each stroke effortlessly, not even bothering to dodge. 

“Oh my god, I’m nine and a half and you can’t even hurt me. The way my brother was talking, I thought this was gonna be  _ hard.” _ She says, still cackling, and the android snarls at her and flashes away, charging her ki and launching an attack that Bulla meets without hesitation. They lock ki waves and Bulla holds back, letting the android believe she has a chance.  _ “Yaaaaaaaawn.  _ Come  _ oooon. _ This is so  _ booooooooriiiiiiing!  _ Keep me entertained, or I’m just gonna kill ya.” She yells over the crackling roar of their power, laughing when she feels the android push just a touch harder. Probably the best she can do. 

“This is fucking absurd.” She hears the android growl. “You’re a fucking  _ child!  _ How are you so  _ strong?” _

“Y’know, I don’t really know the specifics.” Bulla says, breaking their lock and sidestepping deftly. “Some Saiyan thing, I guess.” She dodges the android’s continued assault, toying with her so painfully easily that Bulla really is starting to get bored. 

“That’s it, I’m outta here.” The android says suddenly, turning tail and streaking away. 

But Bulla isn’t having any of that.

She sighs and raises a hand, guessing it’s time to end this fight for good. 

She focuses her ki into her palm and looses a blast with more than enough power to tear the fucking toaster apart. It hits her dead on, and Bulla grins as the bitch screams and disintegrates. She watches what’s left of her fall to the ground, little more than dust and ash fluttering in the breeze, then turns and flies to where Trunks has engaged the other machine. 

She gets there just in time to see Trunks outmaneuver his opponent and finish the fight soundly, slashing the android in half with the sword he had taken to carrying and then blasting him to pieces. He straightens once the dust has cleared and the android is dead, then sheathes the sword and turns to grin at Bulla. 

“It’s over.” He says breathlessly, his eyes growing shiny. “It’s over. It’s finally fucking  _ over!”  _ He whoops then and lunges at Bulla, crashing into her and hugging her tightly, and laughs big and loud and unburdened for the first time since… well, ever. 

She laughs with him and lets him squeeze the life out of her, startling when his laughter suddenly shifts and collapses into great big sobs.

“Hey! Hey, it’s okay, big brother.” Bulla says softly, putting her arms around him and holding him as he falls apart completely. “It’s okay. It’s over and we won, just like I said we would. We’re free and earth is finally safe.” But he just keeps sobbing and trembling. She sighs and lowers them out of the sky, landing and supporting her brother as his knees buckle and he sinks to the ground. 

He cries for a long time, his forehead resting on her little shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around him, and when he finally quiets and pulls away, she feels stiff and a little like crying herself. 

“I’m sorry.” Trunks murmurs, swiping at his face and sniffing congestedly. “Shit, I’m sorry, sis. I didn’t mean to— I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” She says with a shrug and a smile. “You okay, now?” Trunks sniffs again and offers a watery smile of his own. 

“Yeah. Let’s go home and tell mom the good news.” He says softly, taking a deep breath and getting to his feet. 

—

_ Five years later _

“Did you pack food and extra clothes, honey?” Bulma asks, stepping up behind him and dusting his jacket. 

“Not yet.” Trunks replies with a smile and glances back at her. “So do you really think this is gonna work?”

“Uh duh. I’m a genius, remember?” She snorts. He rolls his eyes. 

“No, I mean going back to give Goku the heart medicine. Do you think it’ll change anything?” He says. Bulma shrugs. 

“I think it’s worth a try.” She replies, smiling when he looks at her again. “And hey, if it doesn’t work out for us, then at least there’s a timeline that has a chance.”

“I guess you’re right.” Trunks sighs, but he can’t shake the strange twinge of anxiety in his guts. 

“Of course I am. Again, genius.” Then she turns and starts walking back toward the house. “I’ll go put together a care capsule for you. And pack your clothes.”

“Okay.” Trunks says, looking up into the sky. “I think I’m gonna go talk to Gohan.”

“Okay, honey. Be back soon.”

He nods and takes off, flying for Mount Paozu and his mentor’s childhood home. 

“Hey, big bro.” He says as he lands, sitting down immediately and smiling at the simple, carved headstone that marks Gohan’s grave. “I know it’s been a little while. Sorry about that. We’ve been trying to rebuild West City and mom’s been working on the time machine nonstop.” He sighs and looks down at his hands. “I think she's convinced that if I go back and give your dad the heart medication, it’ll change things here.”

And he can almost hear Gohan’s soft, deep voice asking him,  _ you sound skeptical _ . Can almost see the small smile stretching across his face. 

“I don’t think it’s gonna change anything. But she’s right about one thing. If we can save at least one timeline from what’s happened here, it’ll be worth it.” He sighs again and shrugs. “Or that’s what we’re hoping, anyway.” 

The wind picks up then and Trunks closes his eyes. It blows through his hair, cool and sweet-smelling, and Trunks thinks of all the times he and Gohan had sat perched on some bluff, watching the world spin beneath them. 

“I wish you could have seen me and Bulla take down the androids. Wish dad could’ve too.” He says, smiling sadly. “God, you’d have been so proud of her. I know I’ve said it before, but I mean it. She’s so much stronger than any of us ever were. So much stronger than me. She wouldn’t have let you go alone that day.” He swipes at his face and laughs congestedly. “I know, I know. It’s not my fault, it was your choice. Believe me, mom makes sure I never forget that. Still, if I hadn’t been so weak, maybe things would have been different.”

He can almost hear Gohan telling him that’s not true, not to be so hard on himself, but that doesn’t change anything. 

Trunks sighs and stands then, dusting off the seat of his pants and shoving his hands in his pockets, pausing to enjoy the peace that normally comes with talking to Gohan. Except it doesn’t. He still feels anxious. 

“I miss you. Every day.” He says sadly, then turns and takes off, flying slowly back to Capsule Corp, wondering why he doesn’t feel any better about any of this. 

—

Trunks is performing last minute system checks when a sickeningly strong ki signature washes over him. He freezes, his blood running cold, then finishes his checks and sets the time before hopping out. He looks around frantically, beginning to panic as the ki signature draws closer, and powers up with a shout. He pinpoints his sister’s ki and calls out to her with his own. 

He’s so focused on getting Bulla’s attention that he doesn’t notice the bug stalking him. 

It slams into him the next moment, catching him off guard and driving him back into the side of the building, snarling in his face and repeatedly punching him in the gut. Trunks coughs and gags, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. He flares his ki, but it only succeeds in pushing the bug back a little, just enough for him to wriggle free and shoot into the air. 

“So you must be the brat who killed my androids.” The bug says then, turning and straightening, raising its head to pin Trunks with a withering glare. “I’ve been watching you for some time, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Who the hell are you?” Trunks demands, thankful that his voice doesn’t crack. His guts  _ hurt,  _ all he can taste is blood, and he can feel himself weakening by the second. Fucking insect must have done some real damage. 

“Who am I?” The bug says with a chuckle. “I am Dr. Gero’s greatest creation. His magnum opus.” It chuckles again and grins at him, exposing its fangs. “I am Cell.” 

“Cell, huh?” Trunks huffs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I killed the androids. You’re about five years too late if you were planning to team up with ‘em.”

“Team up?” The bug says, tilting its head. “No, I was not planning to team up. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I need a way to get to the androids, and my files indicate that this place, Capsule Corp, has been working on a time machine for the last few decades. Dr. Briefs’s design, if memory serves, carried on by his daughter, Bulma Briefs.”

“Too bad we don’t have anything like that.” Trunks lies, wincing as he sinks out of the sky and lands heavily. “What’s the point of going back in time, anyway?”

“Hmm, you see, Dr. Briefs— your grandfather, if my biometric sensors are functional, which they are— was working with my creator on such a machine. A collaboration that would have revolutionized several industries in an instant, had it been allowed to bear fruit. But while Dr. Briefs wanted to achieve such a feat for his own enjoyment, Dr. Gero saw the potential for commercial and societal gain. He wanted to use it to send rich humans on vacations to other times, a pursuit that would have been quite lucrative indeed. But alas, your grandfather shut down the project, claiming my creator to be interested only in money, and not in the good of your petty race.”

“Do you have a point?” Trunks growls, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Yes.” Cell replies with a grin. “My point is, Dr. Gero uploaded the plans to such a machine into my database, in the event that someone had managed to fell the androids before I had gotten the chance to absorb them and achieve perfection. And this,” the bug points to the time machine with one clawed finger and laughs, “looks just like the time machine design in those files.”

It launches itself at Trunks then, moving too fast, and slams into him hard, putting a hand through his chest. 

Trunks gasps and the world stops spinning. Time slows as pain blooms from the arm sprouting out of his chest, so complete and exquisite that he can’t breathe. He can feel his blood rushing from his body, so vivid that he thinks he can feel each red blood cell clamor through his veins as he bleeds to death, and the flush of ice water over his head leaves him dizzy and faint. 

Cell pulls his hand back then, and Trunks falls to his knees before him, reaching up with shaky hands that don’t seem to be attached to his body to clutch at his gaping chest. His pulse flutters in his throat, rabbit-quick and thready, and the world pitches like the deck of a ship. He lists sideways, crashing to the ground and fighting the black that is beginning to edge his vision. 

“I should thank you, you know.” Cell says, crouching down and smiling when Trunks’s eyes slide sluggishly to look at it. “You did all the hard work for me. Now all I have to do is take your little time machine back to when the androids were alive. I will destroy this world, boy. I will suck the life from every creature that walks this planet, taking and taking until there is not a trace of energy left.” It straightens then and cocks it’s head. “Seems we may have company. I shall take my leave, then. It is unfortunate I will not be able to absorb you. It would have been a mercy, I think. Much better than dying cold and in pain, but I suppose that is what you deserve. You denied me my perfection, and so I will deny you a quick and painless death. It is only fair.” 

The next time Trunks is conscious, Bulla is standing over him, screaming. He can’t really hear her, she sounds too far away, and it’s not until the world shakes that he realizes she’s shaking him. He can’t feel her hands on him. Then his mother is there, panic etched all over her face, and his eyes fill with tears at the sight of her. 

He’s dying. He knows it. He can feel himself begin to separate and fade away. His mother and his sister scream… something, but the static in his ears makes them hard to hear. He opens his mouth, works his jaw, but he can’t concentrate, can find the part of his brain that governs his speech. 

He feels tired. And cold. Heavy. Weak. Feels… slow. Sluggish. Brain misfiring. Muscles refusing to obey the signals it sends out. Pain. No pain. Strange.

His eyelids flutter, getting heavy, hard to open. Hard to… hard… to…

—

Trunks is gone. The time machine is gone. 

It’s not fair. 

She didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

They still don’t know what happened. There are cameras, but watching the footage wouldn’t change anything. Both women had decided watching Trunks die would only hurt, and so they deleted it. They were better off not knowing what had happened. Knowing would only matter if they could do something about it. And they couldn’t. So that was that. 

They buried him next to Vegeta in the garden, though they had argued about whether he belonged there or at Gohan’s side. Bulla hadn’t really cared one way or the other, but it had felt good to be mad about something, instead of just sad. 

Bulla spends most of her days alone, off in the wilderness, training because that was the only way to shut off her brain. If she lets herself think for too long, she always inevitably conjures the image of her brother choking on his own blood, tears streaking his cheeks as he had taken his final breaths, the hole gaping in his chest oozing sickly as he had shuddered and gone still at last. 

One day, Bulma stops her before she heads out, well before sunrise, and demands to know what the hell she thinks she’s doing. 

“What if something else happens, mom?” Bulla says, her voice flat and hard, and Bulma recoils as if she’d been struck. “There’s always gonna be some big bad here to destroy the earth. We got complacent, and Trunks paid for it. I won’t let that happen again.”

“But honey—“

“But nothing, mom.” Bulla snaps, narrowing her eyes (Bulma would later reflect on how much her daughter had resembled Vegeta in that moment, fierce and fearsome and so angry). “The next time something happens, I’ll be ready. I have to be.”

And with that, she storms out, taking to the sky and flying fast the moment she’s out the door. 

When she returns, covered in dust and sweat, her knuckles split and bleeding, Bulma chastises her gently even as she helps her clean up. Bulla smiles and apologizes for snapping and taking off, feeling better now that she’s suitably exhausted. 

“I know you feel like you have to pick up your brother’s mantle, honey, but I need you to be careful.” Bulma says softly, sitting down next to Bulla on the couch. “I need you here with me, y’know? We’ve lost so much, so many people. I can’t lose you too.”

“Mom, listen to me.” Bulla says, turning to face her. “I can’t just sit around and get soft. I have to keep training. Keep reaching higher. I can’t protect you, or myself, if I don’t train. Life’s not fair. No one’s gonna level the playing field for me.”

“I know. I just want you to be careful.” Bulma sighs. 

“I will be, mom. Don’t worry.” Bulla says with a smile. 

And so it goes for the next ten years, until a new, horrifyingly powerful ki signature enters earth’s atmosphere. She can’t tell if it’s evil or not, but Bulla goes to meet it anyway. 

She lands on an outcrop in the middle of the desert and watches the ship catch fire as it punches through the clouds. She grins savagely and ascends to something beyond Super Saiyan with a full-throated roar, then blasts off toward it, ready for whatever steps out of the tin can that touches down on her planet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. 
> 
> This chapter didn’t want to be written, and I struggled with it a lot. I’m sorry if it seems kinda rushed. I didn’t want to pad it out with needless filler, but idk if this is necessarily better. Rest assured, this is always the direction I intended to take this fic. I didn’t just throw it together, no matter how much it seems like I did lol
> 
> Anyway, I hope y’all enjoyed this angsty train wreck. Thanks for reading and sticking with me!! ❤️❤️❤️


End file.
